Twilight at Blueberry Barrens (10 page)

A
familiar wave of failure welled in Kate's chest as she looked at the harvestless fields. The barren red plants broke her heart.

Emma stooped and touched a leaf on one of the plants. “Where are the blueberries?” She stopped and waved at her uncle who was picking his way through the red fields.

Kate beckoned him to join them. “Don't bother being careful. The plants are useless. You can't hurt them much.”

Drake's broad shoulders cast the plants in shadows where he stood. “They look nice.”

“Looks are deceiving. I didn't have the money to rent honeybee hives. I hoped there would be enough bees around to have a decent crop, but it didn't happen. There are a few berries.” She knelt and moved some red leaves so Drake and the children could see the tiny blueberries. “Not enough to even harvest though.”

Phoebe danced from one foot to the other. “Can we eat them?”

Before Kate could answer the little girl, Drake held out two candy bars. “I brought you each a Snickers.”

Kate frowned. “It's too close to dinnertime for candy. The
blueberries are a better snack.” She plucked a handful and put them in Phoebe's palm. “Go potty. We'll wait right here for you.”

Phoebe popped them in her mouth, and the swipe left a blue stain around her lips. “Okay. Be right back.” She ran toward the cottage.

Drake's somber expression darkened as he lowered his hand to his side. “The candy bar has nuts.”

“And sugar and hydrogenated soybean oil.”

“You're going to control their every bite of food?” His tone left no doubt about his opinion on that.

“Sugar is bad for them. Very bad.” She shook her head as he lifted a brow her way, unwrapped a candy bar, then took a big bite. “And for you.” She turned her back on him and knelt to look at the plants. “Want some blueberries, Emma? Pick all you like.”

Emma brushed away the leaves and found a handful of berries for herself. “Why are they so small?”

“They're wild blueberries. We call them lowbush. They grew here by themselves. Taste them and see what you think.”

Emma popped several in her mouth, and her hazel eyes widened. “They're really good. Way better than a Snickers bar. Can I have more?”

“You can have all you can find.” Harvesting these few tiny berries wouldn't be worth the work, but they'd have enough to enjoy for a bit.

Emma grabbed another handful. “Why do you grow blueberries if it's so hard?”

Kate opened her mouth to reply, then closed it. Why did she? Tradition and family expectations mostly. “My mother grew up helping her parents on a barrens, and she wanted me to learn to
do it too. My father bought these fields for her, and it's been my life too.”

“Do you like it?” Juice dribbled down Emma's chin.

Did she? Kate flicked her gaze to Drake, and she found him watching her with a taut expression. He'd been acting funny ever since he got out here too. His shoulders were tense, and he held his mouth in a flat, hard line. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but it wasn't appropriate with Emma there.

She knelt beside the little girl and dug around a blueberry shrub. “This is how blueberries spread. This is a rhizome, kind of like a runner. It makes a clone blueberry and spreads out to make more and more.”

Emma straightened. “Uncle Drake always said I was Mommy's clone, but we didn't know what it meant. It sounded good though, and I was glad.” She glanced up at her uncle.

Kate let the rich earth dribble out of her hand. If only there was some way to heal the pain in Emma's heart. “A clone means just alike. Were your mommy's eyes hazel too?”

Emma nodded. “We have Grandma's hazel eyes and cowlick.” She smoothed the top of her head in a self-conscious gesture.

“No one is exactly anyone else's clone. It's just an expression.” Kate brushed the dirt from her hands. “Phoebe will never be exactly like your dad, and you won't be exactly like your mom. You're you, totally unique and special just like God made you. You'll have different experiences than your dad did, and you'll want to do things that he never did.”

“Then why are you doing what your mom did?”

Out of the mouths of babes.
Kate stood and dusted the dirt from her hands. “Sometimes it takes a while to figure out your own way in the world.”

“Uncle Drake says you should decorate houses. He likes the cottage.”

Kate shot a glance at Drake, whose face had reddened. “I had fun doing it.” She helped Emma up. “Run along to the house and get me a bowl. Maybe we can find enough blueberries to make a cobbler.”

“Can I help you make it?”

“I wouldn't have it any other way.” Once the little girl was out of earshot, she shaded her eyes with her hand and eyed Drake. “What's wrong? You seem ready to kick something.”

He finished the last of the candy bar and wadded up the wrapper in his fist. “You're going to need to keep a close eye on the girls.”

“I already am. Has something happened?” She turned and started for the house.

He fell into step beside her. “I found out Melissa was having an affair with a very evil man. I don't know if she was the target or if Heath was, but I'm not sure Wang is finished with the family. Once I start digging into this more, the danger may increase.”

She stopped and stared up at him. “Then maybe you'd better let it be. You can't bring your brother back, and getting yourself killed would land the girls into foster care. They are the priority right now.”

The muscles in his jaw flexed. “I intend to see justice for my brother. I just need you to do your job and take care of the girls.” He stalked off ahead of her in long strides. Moments later the front door slammed.

She blinked. What had just happened?

* * *

Twilight touched the red fields with gold and purple. The darkness made it easy to blend into the fields as he lay flat among the blueberry plants. He fiddled with his binoculars until he could see clearly through the living room window.

A woman passed in front of his vision, and his fingers tightened on the binoculars.
Kate Mason
. The lighter in his pocket begged to be used. He could fire the cottage and be done with all of them. One hand fumbled for the lighter until sanity prevailed. He wanted to get back to the bright lights and bars of Boston. He missed his favorite watering hole and the comforting darkness in the alleys of the city. The vastness of this place left him unsettled.

He watched as Newham pulled the smaller of the girls onto his lap and let her eat his ice cream. He focused on the woman again. Lingering on the soft roundness of her shape, he grinned. She was a looker for sure. He'd managed to hack into the sheriff department's files, and there was little evidence on the deaths.

He swung the binoculars back to Newham. Most likely the man would have to be eliminated, if only to get him out of the way. But first he had to retrace his steps and find his journal, or he'd be in big trouble.

The kids might be collateral damage, too, but he hoped not. He didn't like the idea of hurting kids, never had. Some might call it his Achilles' heel, but he liked to think he was a pragmatic man.

* * *

The golden moonlight turned the red fields a faint orange shade as Drake walked Kate home. Immersed in watching a Disney
DVD he'd popped in after dinner, the girls hadn't wanted to come, but he'd insisted. Their lagging steps proclaimed their displeasure.

Kate had left on a porch light, but the yard was dark. He peered up the light pole. “You need to replace your yard light.”

“I know. I don't have a ladder tall enough to reach it, but I'll call someone when I get a chance.”

“When I get a chance” was code for when she had the money. He'd get it done tomorrow. With all the events of the past few weeks, he didn't think it was safe to ignore. He said nothing though and watched her dig in her ridiculously oversize purse for her keys. The bag was made from a quilted fabric in a bright-purple print that didn't seem her type of thing.

“Big bag you've got there.”

She glanced down at it. “Hideous, isn't it? My mother bought it for my birthday a couple of years ago. I think she got it at a garage sale, and I didn't have the heart to tell her I hated it. And then I suddenly didn't hate it when I couldn't find anything else big enough. I like to be prepared, and it's hard to find something lightweight and big.”

“Where does your mom live?”

She looked away and lowered her voice. “She's in prison. Kidnapping and manslaughter. She kidnapped my half sister who then died from an asthma attack. And she helped cover up a murder my uncle committed. It occurred a long time ago, back when I was five, but only came to light a few years back. My uncle's in prison too. Well, he was. He escaped last week.” She grimaced. “Nice family I've got, huh?”

His gut clenched at her revelation. “Have you seen your uncle? Is he in the area?”

She shook her head. “The sheriff and his deputies are on the lookout for him.” Her gaze swung toward the house. “He might have paid me a visit last week. I had an intruder who ate some pizza from my fridge, and it's unlikely to be anyone but Uncle Paul.”

He eyed the dark yard again, then glanced at his nieces. “Are my girls in danger?”

“Absolutely not. He's not the type to go around killing kids. Even my half sister's death was an accident he covered up.” Her blue eyes were vulnerable when she glanced back up at him. “I suppose I should have told you about this before you hired me, but I'm not anything like him or my mother.”

He studied her expression, noting the pain in her eyes and the defensive slant to her mouth. She wasn't asking for sympathy. His aunt had told him she'd been sick, but Aunt Dixie hadn't mentioned the horrific skeletons in Kate's closet. And maybe she should have before he hired Kate, but he couldn't really fault her for wanting to keep it quiet. Who would want to announce something like that to a stranger?

She caught her full lower lip between her teeth. “Are you going to fire me?”

He shook himself free of his thoughts. “No, of course not. You're doing a fine job with the girls. At least when you're not lecturing me about sugar and hydrogenated oils.” He grinned and touched her on the shoulder. “Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

A shadow passed over her face, and she ducked her head. “I was really sick. But I'm okay now, really. Not a trace of aplastic anemia left. The doctor is very pleased.”

“My aunt told me about that. I'm glad.” The thought of
her lying pale and near death in a hospital bed made his hand drop away.

He liked her spunk. In spite of everything life had thrown at her, she'd gotten back up again and pressed on. Lots of other women would have pulled the covers over their heads and refused to enter life's arena again. But not Kate. She doubled up her fists and came up punching.

She stepped past him and hugged the girls. “Remember, if you need to talk to me, even in the middle of the night, you can call. You have my number. I'll come right down, okay?”

Phoebe nodded, and Emma folded her arms across her chest and looked away. Drake had thought his older niece was warming up to Kate, but she had her guard up again.

Kate turned and went up the porch steps. “I can come over to fix breakfast at eight if you like.”

“I think I can manage cereal for all of us.”

She paused with the key in the lock and looked at him over her shoulder. “Cereal! Certainly not. The girls need a healthy breakfast. I'll go grocery shopping tomorrow, and I'll get some Greek yogurt and fruit. Tomorrow I'll bring ingredients to make almond-flour pancakes.”

“Whoa, let's not go too far in that direction. We're all healthy and can handle a little cereal.”

She jammed the key home and twisted it, then shoved open the door. “I learned the hard way that you can never take good health for granted.”

Of course. She'd been near death, so it was no wonder she cared about that kind of thing. And it wouldn't hurt him and the girls to eat well for a few weeks. “Pancakes sound good. Do I have to eat them dry?”

She laughed, a musical sound that seemed to float in the air. “I'll bring homemade maple syrup and real butter. You and the girls will love them.”

“I'll have to trust you on that.” He waited until the door shut behind her and he saw lights come on in the living room. Her shadow flitted across the window shades, and he watched a few more moments until Emma tugged at his hand.

“Uncle Drake, can we go now?”

He tore his gaze away. “Sure, honey. I'll fix some popcorn, and we'll watch the rest of the movie. Just don't tell Kate, okay? I don't want to get in trouble.”

Emma giggled. “You're the boss. You can't get in trouble.”

If he told himself that enough, he just might buy it. But he had the feeling that looking into Kate's big blue eyes was dangerous.

T
heir first week together had been a little rocky. Kate found the girls vacillating between obeying and trying to pit her against their uncle, but it was early and she'd win this war eventually. She'd been thrilled Drake had brought the girls to her church this morning, and she sat with them, sharing a hymnal with Phoebe and feeling a tiny bit of what it must be like to be part of a real family with children—right down to the girls' restlessness until she'd fished out pencils and a decoder puzzle from her purse that Drake had created for them. They sat happily deciphering until the service was over and several of Kate's Sunday school children had come up to hug her. Phoebe had been downright jealous.

Kate changed her clothes after church, then positioned Phoebe at the table with bowls of chopped vegetables and lettuce. She set four salad plates in front of her. “You can fix the salads for everyone. I want everything in mine. You can see what your uncle and Emma want too. I'll make some dressing, and by the time we're both done, the vegetable soup should be ready to eat.” The kitchen already smelled amazing, and her stomach rumbled.

Phoebe's nose wrinkled. “I only like Campbell's. You put snap peas in yours.”

“If you like Campbell's, you'll like mine better.”

Emma entered the kitchen and went to the stove and picked up the ladle. “I'll stir the soup.”

Kate whisked the ladle out of her hand. “How about you set the table?” She pulled out the drawer containing tableware, then lifted down soup bowls.

Emma made another grab for the big spoon. “I want to stir!”

“It's very hot, and it's a gas stove. You're not big enough to do that just yet. Maybe after we go over some safety instructions, I'll let you try to cook something. The soup is already very hot, and I don't want you burned.”

Tears welled in Emma's eyes, and she whirled for the door. “Uncle Drake!”

She dashed through the opening to the living room and told Drake Kate was letting Phoebe help but wouldn't let her. Pressing her lips together, Kate ladled up soup and carried the bowls to the table. “About done with those salads, Phoebe?”

“I think they look good.” Phoebe tipped her head to one side and smiled, then picked up two of the salads and carried them to the table.

“Very nice. You made faces with the tomatoes. I can't wait to eat mine. Good job!” When she turned to help Phoebe get the other two salads, Drake entered the kitchen holding Emma in his arms. A pencil drawing of a drone was in his hand.

His gaze swept the kitchen and settled on the salad plate in Phoebe's hands. “Why can't Emma help too?”

It pained her to give an explanation. When was he going to trust her? “I gave her a job to do, but she didn't want to do it. She wanted to stir the hot soup, and I didn't want her to get burned.”

He frowned. “Is it that dangerous just to stir a little soup?”

Stay cool
. She motioned for him to follow her to the stove. “Put Emma down.”

He shot her a glance and set Emma down. Kate turned off the stove, then positioned the little girl in front of the burner. “Look how tall the pot is. For her to reach in to stir the soup, she'd have to stand on her toes, and she's very likely to touch the hot pot with her arm.” Kate demonstrated but kept her hand on the bottom side of Emma's arm. She winced when the top of her hand touched the top of the pot. “See what I mean?”

“Yeah.” Drake pressed his lips together and took Emma's hand to lead her to the table.

Kate exhaled and gave her head a tiny shake. They would have to talk this out. He had to quit questioning her every time one of the girls complained to him. Either she had charge of them or she didn't.

They ate supper in near silence except for Phoebe who kept up a steady stream of chatter about the raccoon she'd seen under the back porch. She'd already named it Vince and was planning to take it supper.

Kate started to forbid her from leaving food out for it but decided it wouldn't hurt anything, really. Raccoons all over the area were used to scrounging for human food, even though it wasn't all that good for them.

She cleaned up the table and put the girls to washing and drying the dishes at the sink, then went to find Drake in the living room. He was still going over papers he'd gotten from his brother's office. She stood for a moment and waited for him to see her. He'd gotten a nice tan in the last ten days, and it went so well with his dark, curly hair and hazel eyes. She'd never seen a handsomer male specimen.

He finally looked up and saw her standing quietly in the doorway. “I see that expression. I'm in trouble, aren't I?”

His candor caught her off guard. “You have to decide if you're going to trust me or not, Drake. I already love the girls. I wouldn't do anything to hurt them. Any decision I make seems called into question the minute one of them complains.”

“So I'm just supposed to shut up and let you run the house?”

She blew out a breath. “I didn't say that! If you have a question about what I'm doing, let's talk about it. But in private, not in front of the girls. That just fuels an adversarial spirit they can sense. In fact, they play us against each other. Or haven't you noticed?”

He frowned. “We're all getting used to the new arrangements. I'm their guardian, their new dad. What kind of women they grow up to be ultimately falls on my shoulders. I want to have a say in how they're raised. I don't want them to feel picked on or shoved aside in any way.”

“And I wasn't doing that with Emma.”

“I realized it once you showed me, but I had no way of knowing before that.”

She took a couple of steps into the room. “If you trusted me, there wouldn't be the constant questions. That's what it boils down to—you aren't sure about me. What is it that keeps you from laying down your guard with me?”

He stared up at her as if trying to figure her out, then passed a palm over his forehead. “It's not you. It's me. If I'd been more aware of what was going on with Heath, maybe he wouldn't be dead. I don't want to make a mistake with the girls. I'm living with enough regrets already.”

Her chest squeezed, and she saw the situation from his point
of view. “I understand, but we've got to come to an agreement to at least take our concerns to a private room.”

He nodded. “I can agree to that, and I'll try to let go of my fear of failing the girls.”

“You're a good dad to them, Drake. The best. We'll get them through this together.”

He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Kate. I know we will.”

Warmth spread from his hand down her chest and settled in her belly. This man moved her like no one else ever had.

* * *

Kate couldn't sleep. Her conversation with Drake about the girls kept her tossing and turning until after one, and she finally got up to check the locks on the doors. Maybe some warm milk would help. She heated it on the stove, then carried it out under the stars. She rubbed her burning eyes and took a sip of the warm milk at the table on her back porch.

A footfall behind her made the back of her neck prickle, and she jumped to her feet. “Who's there?” She peered through the shadows at a tall figure looming in the moonlight.

Wait a minute, she knew that floppy hat and rangy figure. He looked just as handsome as ever with his salt-and-pepper hair. “Uncle Paul?” She hurtled down the steps and flung her arms around him. “I thought you'd already headed for Canada.”

His plaid shirt smelled of fresh air as she buried her nose in his chest. He hugged her back but quickly released her as if
he wasn't sure her hug was genuine. “I wanted to see you before I went.”

The rush of joy ebbed as reality returned. He was a convicted murderer. The things he'd done had hurt Claire and Luke tremendously. How could she claim to love her sister if she let him get away? But her phone was in the house.

He must have seen her smile fade because he crossed his arms across his chest. “I need you to do something for me.”

She shook her head. “I can't help you. You're a fugitive, and you tried to kill Claire.”

“I was good to you, Kate. I was the only father you knew. You can do this one little thing for me.”

“And I'm grateful for all you did. I still love you, Uncle Paul. It's impossible to turn love on and off like a hot-water tap, but you need to turn yourself in. You need to pay for what you did.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her with him toward the blueberry barrens. “It will only take a minute. I'd do it myself, but I'm too big to fit.”

She struggled against his tight grip, but she couldn't break free. Dew drenched her feet, and the blueberry plants tore at the skin on her soles. He dragged her toward the tree line on the other side of the fields. It did no good to fight him, so she gave up the struggle and walked with him toward the woods. Once they were in total darkness, she'd make a run for it. She never would have believed he'd manhandle her like this.

Her arm felt bruised where he gripped it. “You can let go. I'm coming with you.”

His face was expressionless and he shook his head. “I know you, Kate. You think you can outrun me when we get to the trees, but that's not going to happen. Do what I tell you, and
you'll be home for breakfast before the dew is gone from the grass.”

She examined the dark outline of the approaching trees. She knew the area well, but her uncle was even more familiar with it. He hunted back here all the time. What could he want with her? Once he got what he wanted, he'd be out of here and halfway to Canada by the time the sheriff arrived.

The air cooled as soon as they entered the thick shade from the trees. Eastern red cedar mingled with poplar, ash, and birch in the forest as he dodged the trunks and pulled her toward a rocky hillside dotted with spruce and pine trees. Her bare feet kicked up the scent of pine from the fallen needles. She tried to remember what terrain lay this way. The small lake. Did he intend to kill her? He dragged her closer to the sound of the waterfall until they were close enough she could smell the water, and she struggled harder.

He stopped beside the lake and reached down to grab a length of rope. “I'm sorry, but I can't trust you. Besides, this way you won't be guilty of helping me. The marks on your arms will prove I forced you to help me.” He yanked her arms behind her back and tied her wrists together, then attached the other end to a jack pine tree. “I'll untie you in a minute.”

She twisted her wrists and hands, but he was an expert at tying knots and she couldn't budge the rope. Maybe once his back was turned she could get loose from the tree.

He bent down and pulled a small kayak from behind some shrubs, then reached inside and withdrew a flashlight. He stuffed it in the waistband of his jeans before untying her. “There's a small cave behind the waterfall. You're going to crawl in there and get a bag with a passport and money in it. It's in a Ziploc
baggie on the right side of the cave about ten feet in and around the bend to the right.”

Shaking her head, she backed away. “I'm not going to help you.”

“You have to. I can't get in there myself.”

“Then how'd you get that stuff in there?”

“An old girlfriend about your size.”

“Becky?”

“Maybe.” He removed the rope, then put the flashlight in her hand. “The sooner you get to it, the sooner you can get home to breakfast. I'm not letting you go until I have my stuff. If you don't go, I'll burn down Claire's house. And I'll make sure she and Rocco are in it.”

For the first time she felt her chest tighten as she stared up into his expressionless face. Initially she hadn't believed he could do the things he'd done. What made her think he wouldn't do whatever he had to this time as well? For all she knew he'd pick up a rock and bash her head in too. She looked at the waterfall, silvery in the moonlight. She'd do anything for her sister.

As if to punctuate the threat, her uncle stooped and picked up a hefty rock. “I have nothing to lose anymore, Kate. Do what I ask. Now.”

She looked at the boulder in his hand, then at his set face. There were probably spiders and centipedes in that cave. She suppressed a shudder and flipped on the flashlight, and then she stepped into the kayak and picked up the paddle.