Pride Of A Hunter. Sylvie Kurtz
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out. She didn’t see the point of buying a new color chair every time Brendan graduated teams.
“Late again, Luci.” Sally Kennison, in her perfectly pleated trousers and polished loafers, looked down her long nose as Luci struggled to free the chair from its carrying case. “You really ought to treat yourself to a watch.”
“Goats don’t run by a clock.” Luci had to let pop out the one wrong thing to remind the country club set that she was an outsider who worked a lowly farm for a living. Hard to believe she’d once had iron control over every cell of her body. But August always shook her up and shredded her focus. Getting back in sync took more time every year.
Sally’s perfectly manicured nails waived down the sideline. “Yes, well, you obviously aren’t late because you took the time to clean up. Sit downwind, please.” A few of the other moms sniggered and the gossip turned back to who was doing what to whom. Luci tuned them out and focused on the kids.
On the field, two teams of six- and seven-year-olds mobbed the ball and somehow moved it up and down the field. Pacing each of the sidelines, the two coaches barked suggestions that were mostly ignored as the kids concentrated on kicking the black-and-white ball toward the goal.
At halftime, Luci distributed the orange slices and the kids turned them into orange-peel smiles.
That’s when Jill showed up, hurrying in high-heel-induced ministeps toward the field. As Luci watched her baby sister, Dom’s voice came back to haunt her.
There’s a con man in town. He marries divorcées and bleeds them dry.
The last woman this con man married died.
He’s engaged to your sister.
Jill couldn’t take another heartache. Not after the way John Jeffery Courville the Second had left her for an older woman. She was just now rebounding from the messy divorce.
Jill had the pert and sassy disposition of someone who would appear young even when she was gray and wrinkled. Her hazel eyes tilted up and crinkled at the corners as if she were always smiling—even when she cried. Her blond-highlighted brown hair was cut in a bob she styled up or down, depending on her mood. Today, she’d had the carnival committee meeting, so she’d gone for the messy bun look—half intellectual, but still showing she could have fun. Her beige linen pants were too light, her strappy heels too high for soccer field sidelines, yet somehow, Jill pulled off the look and fit in more with the Marston mommy-crowd than Luci did with her jeans and sweatshirt.
One of life’s little jokes.
Jill fit in without trying; Luci never could, no matter how hard she tried. She should just stop caring, but somehow she couldn’t.
She’d robbed Brendan of his father. She’d do everything she could so Brendan could have as normal a childhood as possible. She’d come back to Marston because her sister and her parents lived there. She’d grown up there. She felt safe there, even living on the periphery. And she wanted this safe, secure, small-town life with roots and family and community for Brendan. She wanted to raise her son out of the shadow of violence that tainted her past and had stolen part of his future.
“Who’s winning?” Jill asked, plopping down her red chair, which opened for her as easily as an umbrella.
“It’s a tie. One each.”
“Oh, that’s good.”
“How was the carnival committee meeting?”
Jill cringed and shook her head. “Who would have thought that putting on a one-day fund-raising event at an elementary school would take such sharp negotiating skills? If we pull this off by next weekend, we’ll be lucky.”
Luci hooked an ankle over a knee, going for the relaxed look. “Hey, so I hear you have a new boyfriend.”
Jill snapped up straight. “Who told you that?”
Shrugging, Luci pretended rapt attention at the game. “Sally Kennison.” A small lie, but one Jill would believe. Everyone knew that Sally Kennison somehow funneled every scrap of gossip in town and dispersed it as freely as dandelion seeds.
“How could she possibly know?” Jill asked, narrowing her gaze at the woman in question, who was too busy gossiping to notice the deadly look spearing her.
“So, are you?” Luci asked, keeping an eye on Brendan’s forward rush and her peripheral vision on Jill. Luci might have lost proficiency with a weapon, but other skills remained.
Jill stuck out her bottom lip. “Well, there goes my surprise.”
“I thought your surprise was another blind date for me.”
Jill snorted in an unladylike manner. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Luci.”
“Tell me about it.” Lately her world had seemed to spin totally out of control. And Dom’s arrival, with his warnings of doom and gloom, certainly did nothing to slow down the crazy tilting. “So, who is he?”
Jill’s face transformed into pure sunshine. “Oh, he’s the most wonderful guy.”
“Where’d you meet him?”
Jill giggled, making her look twelve. “It was such a coincidence. I met him at the club.” Meaning the Marston Country Club on Flint Bridge Road, where all the who’s who went to be seen. The only time anyone saw Luci there was when she delivered her organic vegetables, herbs and sauces—at the rear entrance, of course. “He was meeting a client for lunch and we literally ran into each other.”
A five-alarm warning jangled in Luci’s head. Oh, Jilly, how could you fall for the oldest trick in the book? “How long ago was that?”
Jill cheered Jeff on, even though he was just standing on the field, pushing up his glasses and watching the ball roll by. “A couple of weeks ago.”
“So, tell me more.” Luci kept her voice light, curious and panic free, even though the panic was digging needles in her chest.
“He’s a dream. A real gentleman. He’s a private investigator. Isn’t that just so fascinating? You should see his office. It’s right on Main Street in Nashua, and he has it fixed up like a movie set.”
The better to play you with, Jilly. What was she going to do? If she tried telling Jill she was being conned, Jill would simply turn on her and accuse Luci of jealousy. “So I get to meet him tomorrow?”
“Yes. Mom and Dad’ll be there, too.”
Great, just what Luci needed—more criticism.
“Warren’s going to grill some hamburgers for the kids, then he’ll make some salmon steaks for the adults.”
Oh, no, he was using downright dirty tactics to worm his way into Jill’s heart. A man who could cook. Jill’s soft spot. He was showing her he could take care of her every need. “Can I bring anything?”
Jill’s nose wrinkled up in a cute, sassy way, as if she’d expected Luci’s offer all along. “How about one of your apple tortes? Warren loves apples.”
Luci cleared her throat at the sickening display of gush. With any luck, Warren’s next apple pie would come courtesy of the corrections system. “Okay, sure.”
Brendan kicked the ball straight at his cousin, giving him a chance to get into the play.
Jeff aimed his foot at the ball, managed to clip it with the side of his cleat and fell down hard on his backside. The referee blew the whistle. The coach trotted onto the field and helped Jeff up. The crowd clapped. Once on the sideline, Jeff made a beeline for his mother.
“I fell down.” Jeff sniffled and held up his arms. Jill, who’d jumped up when Jeff fell, crouched down to his eye level and let her son wrap his grubby arms around her pale pink cashmere sweater.
“I saw that.”
“Brendan passed the ball to me, and—” Jeff