Winter Reunion. Roxanne Rustand
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Maura grimaced. “Not really, after all those days on the road. But color always perks me right up.” She held Beth’s shoulders and took a step back to survey her head to toe. “My goodness, but you’re thin.”
“Not thin. Ten pounds too high, according to the charts.”
“Thin,” Maura retorted. “And so…so staid. It’s a good thing I’m here.”
Amused, Beth looked down. “A long denim skirt and cranberry sweater isn’t exactly staid. I think I’m actually sort of Midwestern hip.”
“Well, we’re going to see what we can do about that, hon.”
At Maura’s calculating appraisal, Beth quelled the urge to roll her eyes. Her mother had embraced the flower child era with gusto, and at sixty she had yet to let it go. “I’m nearly done down here, Mother. As soon as I close, we can go upstairs. I’ve got the guest room ready. It’s small, but you’ll be comfortable while you’re here.”
“It’s a lovely room, as I remember. Now, don’t mind me. I’ll just wander around the store for a while and let you finish up.”
Beth watched her stroll away, the initial bounce in her step fading. Was that a weary droop to her shoulders? Despite Maura’s trademark ebullience upon arrival, there’d also been something else—a trace of worry, maybe. Or stress. Two emotions she’d always said she wouldn’t waste a nickel on, which made them of concern now. Was it just the long trip, or was something else going on?
Frowning, Beth finished checking her totals and filled out a deposit slip.
A minute later the door jangled again…probably Maura heading out to get her luggage, Beth thought as she dropped the money and slip into an Aspen Creek Savings & Loan night-deposit bag.
“You’re closing up already? Guess I got here too late.”
At the all-too familiar deep rumble of his voice, Beth looked up in shock. “D-Dev?”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said, and you’re right on all counts.” He approached the front counter with the newest Lee Child hardback in his hand, his eyes troubled. He dropped a couple of twenties on the counter. “This situation isn’t going to be easy for either of us, but we’ll manage. I want to apologize for being rude, and thank you for being willing to try.”
She glanced over her shoulder, then rang up the purchase and handed back his change, hoping he wouldn’t linger. “Maybe we can discuss this tomorrow morning—”
But it was too late.
In a flurry of retro-hippie scarves and beads, Maura came around the corner of a bookshelf clutching a large hardback on organic gardening.
Her mouth fell open, then her eyes narrowed. “Devlin,” she exclaimed, her voice low and bitter as she looked between Beth and her nemesis, then pinned her glare on Dev.
“Mom, please,” Beth pleaded.
“How can he have the audacity to come in here?”
“I think I’d better go,” Dev said in a low voice. He turned to leave. “No sense in making anyone upset.”
Beth watched him go, her heart heavy. Maura had been against their marriage from day one, proclaiming that it was a terrible mistake. Ever the champion for her two daughters, she’d later pinned all blame for the divorce on Dev’s shoulders. Her heart had truly turned to stone over what happened after that, and Beth knew her mother would never, ever forgive him.
But the clock was already ticking on the situation with the Sloane House boarders. There was a lot of work to do with no time to waste, and much of it was going to involve Dev.
It was going to be hard enough as it was, and now Beth could only pray that she could keep her mother and Dev apart until at least one of them left town.
Chapter Four
Beth stood at the open door of her car and watched Dev park his late father’s Jeep behind her bumper, hoping her mother’s outburst hadn’t irreparably damaged their tenuous truce.
Maura had retreated into troubled silence on the topic of Dev after their encounter on Friday night. And since Dev had never been one for emotional scenes, preferring a stony retreat to fanning the flames of an argument, it wasn’t likely the two of them would ever come to any level of understanding even if they did run into each other again.
Beth had hoped to see him at church this morning for a chance to talk, but the fact that he hadn’t shown up wasn’t a surprise. As a teenager he’d attended only rarely and probably under duress, though his parents had been pillars of the community and staunch members of the church.
An old memory surfaced, of the first Sunday after Beth’s family had moved to town. She’d been a high school sophomore, and could still remember seeing the dark, brooding teenager in a pew with his parents. He’d been tall, dark and impossibly handsome. That raw, youthful appeal had nothing on what he’d become…six feet of solid muscle, with an aura of strength, even when he was standing still.
She’d never known exactly what he did in the Marines, but had no doubt that he completed his missions with the kind of intense, lethal power that allowed nothing to stand in his way.
Now, he climbed out of his vehicle, clearly favoring his injured shoulder, and started up the walk leading to the two-story brick home where he’d grown up, pausing to stare at the discreet, forest-green sign over the porch steps with Sloane House written in fanciful gilt letters.
There was no warmth in the firm set of his jaw or the flinty expression in his eyes when he spared a brief nod in her direction.
“Cool wheels,” she called out as she closed her car door.
“What?”
Belatedly remembering that he might not hear her clearly, she spoke louder. “The Jeep. It sure brings back memories.”
“Dad’s house calls,” he said on a long sigh.
Clutching a leather folder to her chest, she caught up with him at the front steps. “He had to be the last of a dying breed. He was such an institution around here.”
“A real hero, all right.”
Though from the lack of emotion in Dev’s voice, he’d been one to everyone but his son. “Even if he wasn’t a perfect father, he was well loved in the community, Dev.”
Dev tipped his head in silent acknowledgment.
“Nora told the boarders that we’d be here this afternoon. So how do you want to handle this?” Beth asked.
“I don’t. Hand me an M16—”
Startled, she looked over her shoulder at him. “A what?”
“Hand me an M16, give me a mission, and I’m good to go. But I don’t fit this everyday life in the States anymore. So how am I going to help these folks? If my mother cared about them, she should’ve allowed us to hire the appropriate staff.”
Beth suppressed a shudder, imagining the kinds of dangers he’d faced all these years. “I’m not sure these people need a staff, as such.”
“Then aren’t there other options—like low-cost public housing?”
“Not nearly enough in the county, and none here in Aspen Creek. The economy hit this town pretty hard over the past few years, so I don’t suppose there are any plans, either.”
Dev looked unconvinced. “I knew she’d turned the house into a boardinghouse, but her country club and golf buddies were her primary focus when I was a kid. I still can’t imagine my mother doing this.”
Privately, Beth agreed. Vivian Sloane certainly hadn’t had a very warm heart when it came to welcoming a young daughter-in-law into the family. What could have made her change during the last few years?