Secrets in a Small Town Read online

  “What do you mean?”

  “He seduced a young girl and then when she became inconvenient…”

  She held her breath, not wanting to hear this but it was her father and how could she not believe him?

  Jasper shook his head, a faraway look in his eyes. “She was a good, sweet person. And what happened was a tragedy and a crime.”

  “Are you saying Ty Garrett killed Mimi LaRoche?” she asked on a gasp.

  “Nothing was proven. He died innocent…of that particular charge, but he was guilty of plenty others.”

  TROUBLED BY HER FATHER’S OMINOUS revelation and his reluctance to elaborate, she left her parents’ house with a head full of misery and confusion. What if her source was wrong about Ty Garrett and her father was right? What if Ty Garrett was worse than just a racist but a murderer, as well? She worried her bottom lip as she thought of how devastated Owen would be to find out this new information. It certainly didn’t do much for her story, either. The whole point of digging into the past was to prove Ty’s innocence, putting an entirely new slant on the Red Meadows story. There was nothing to be gained from writing about a man people already considered a villain.

  Unhappy and unsure of what to do, she bypassed her office and went instead to Big Trees Logging in the hopes of catching up with Owen.

  When she arrived, she found a flurry of activity, including a parked ambulance. The EMS crews exited the small office building with Gretchen on the gurney, clutching Owen’s hand with tears rolling down her face. She stared at Owen, surprised by the pinch of jealousy that followed at seeing him so attentive and obviously focused on the pregnant woman. They loaded Gretchen into the ambulance and Piper called Owen’s name, prompting him to turn and hastily tell her to bring Gretchen’s daughter Quinn to the hospital. He didn’t wait for her agreement, just climbed into the awaiting ambulance and she watched as it drove away.

  She frowned, coughing and waving at the dust trail that spewed behind the ambulance and realized there was someone else left behind. He couldn’t be the father, otherwise he’d be the one holding Gretchen’s hand instead of Owen. “Friend?” she asked the compact, intense man beside her. He looked as if granite had been poured into his muscles because everywhere she looked she saw hard, solid strength. He must be a faller, she surmised, remembering Owen’s description of the various jobs on the site. She held out her hand. “Piper Sunday, Dayton Tribune.”

  “I know who you are,” he said, dismissively. “You’re the one making all that trouble for Big Trees Logging. I got nothing to say to you.”

  She withdrew her hand, stung, though she should’ve seen that coming. No one, aside from Owen, had ever been overly pleasant with her. Not that she blamed them, per se, but it still sucked to play the part of the villain. “Just doing my job,” she said stiffly, glancing sidewise at the man. “And you are?”

  “Not interested.” And then he walked away, leaving her to stare after him. Oh, that was perfect. A perfect cherry on the top of the day she was having. And he had terrible manners. She chased after him, tapping on his shoulder for his attention. He turned with a grunt. “What?”

  “You don’t have to like me but you could at least be civil.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says me.” She jutted her chin out. “Now, why don’t you try and redeem yourself and tell me what happened here?”

  “Why should I? You gonna put it in the paper?” he asked, suspicious.

  “No. I’m…worried. Gretchen is pregnant and nowhere near her due date, right?” she asked, surprised when that impassive mask slipped, revealing true concern in the lug’s face. “I’m supposed to get Quinn and take her to the hospital. What should I tell her?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted, looking helpless, which was a strange look on a man who appeared made from steel. “I guess, the truth is a good place to start but the kid’s been through so much already.”

  “You care a lot about Gretchen and her daughter,” she said, casting for information, going on a hunch.

  “’Course I do,” he retorted. “She’s a good office manager…and a good woman.”

  “I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that you’ve got feelings for Gretchen. Does she know?”

  He looked ready to deny it, but Piper fixed him with her best knowing stare and he crumbled like an over-baked cookie. “Is it that obvious?” he asked roughly, his stubbled cheeks coloring under the scruff.

  “Maybe not to some, but I’ve got a sixth sense about this kind of stuff. So, why aren’t you riding beside her in that ambulance?”

  “Owen’s taking good care of her. She needs him.”

  No, Gretchen needed a man who was available and Owen certainly wasn’t. “Are you the kind of guy who waits for opportunity to fall in your lap or do you go after what you want?”

  He scowled. “What do you mean?”

  “Hello? I mean, the woman of your dreams is right there beneath your nose and you’re letting her get away. You’re the one who ought to be by her side. If you don’t show a woman how you feel, she’ll never know. Make a declaration and stand up for what you want.”

  He stared, looking caught between wanting to run after the ambulance and being rooted to the spot, but she gave him credit for stepping up when he said, “I see what you’re saying.”

  “Excellent.” She nearly clapped her hands in delight. Here she was suffering from pangs of jealousy when, in fact, this man right here had it bad for the preggers office manager. Thank God. She hated the idea of chasing off a pregnant woman for Owen’s affections. She eyed him, then came upon an idea. “How about this…give me your cell number and I’ll call and give you an update as soon as I hear about Gretchen.”

  “You’d do that?” he said, narrowing his stare at her as if he didn’t entirely trust her but desperately wanted to know what was happening with Gretchen so he was willing to do just about anything. He had the look of a man who might camp out at Gretchen’s door, out of sight, but within reaching distance if she needed anything. “All right,” he agreed, giving her the cell number. “Call me as soon as you know. But you don’t have to mention to her that you’re doing it, okay? I don’t want to bother her too much.”

  She smiled and lied, “Of course not. It’ll be our secret.”

  He seemed reluctant to accept those terms—being beholden to a reporter seemed a dicey deal to most—but he nodded and then climbed in his truck and rumbled down the street.

  She checked her watch. School was nearly out. Time to get the kid and take her to the hospital and then find Owen.

  OWEN TRIED HARD NOT TO CRY like a little girl each time Gretchen squeezed his hand in time with the contractions that, according to a monitor the nurse had hooked her up to, were registering like Mount Saint Helens right before its top blew off. “It’s too early,” Gretchen said between contractions, tears leaking down her face. “What if she’s… Oh,” she cried as another wave of pain rolled over her. “Not okay? She’s too little, Owen…”

  He didn’t know what to say to that, because he didn’t have a friggin’ clue as to what could happen to a premature baby. So he just tried to reassure her with words that seemed optimistic, when in fact, he felt the urge to vomit. “She’s going to be fine,” he assured her, wincing as he was fairly certain she’d just crushed the bones in his hand to a fine powder. “They’ve got all that fancy equipment for just this occasion. It’ll all be—” holy hell, help me “—fine.”

  PIPER ARRIVED WITH QUINN and she texted Owen to let him know they were there. Within moments, a white-faced Owen rounded the corner to the lobby, rubbing his knuckles as if he’d just gone a round with Ali. Quinn ran to him and hugged his waist. The easy familiarity between the two squeezed Piper’s heart a bit but she ignored it. She understood Owen cared for the little girl because she was beginning to realize that Owen’s heart was bigger than he liked to let on. It was endearing, this hidden component of the rugged logger and she found it entirely sexy to boot. Now tha
t she was an experienced woman, she decided she could make those kinds of determinations.

  “How is she?” Piper asked.

  “She’s in labor. The doc couldn’t stop it.” He looked down into Quinn’s worried gaze and tried to put a positive spin on it. “You’re going to be a big sister, so you’d better get that name figured out. Your mom’s going to need it pretty soon I figure.”

  Quinn nodded, her face drawn and serious. “Okay.”

  He ruffled her hair as if she were a ten-year-old boy instead of a girl and said, “Don’t worry. It’s going to work out just fine.”

  But Piper didn’t know if that was true and she could tell neither did Owen but he was trying his damnedest to appear confident for Quinn’s sake. Owen caught her smile and sheepishly returned it. Caught up in the moment, she almost forgot about the promise she’d made to the surly faller, Timothy. She stepped away to make the call, leaving Owen to ease Quinn’s fears and offer opinions on a name.

  Moments later, she returned, pleased with the conversation, knowing that Timothy would likely risk a speeding ticket to get here.

  “What was that all about?” Owen asked, wary. “You’ve got a smile on your face that looks like the cat who ate the canary.”

  She decided to level with Owen, taking him aside so that Quinn wasn’t privy to the conversation. “Listen, I don’t know if you realize this but your faller, Timothy, has the hots bad for Gretchen. I told him that she needed him here pronto because she was all alone.”

  He scowled. “Why’d you lie? I’m here.”

  “Not for long. I need to talk with you.”

  “It’ll have to wait,” he said, his glower darkening. “Gretchen’s baby might die. We’re her family.” As in Big Trees Logging, not you was the message left unspoken but she heard it loud and clear. “Thanks for bringing Quinn but you can go now.”

  And just like that, all the feel-good, gushy feelings she’d been marinating in went down the drain. Boy, he could go from endearing to uncommunicative asshole in a heartbeat when it suited him. And it hurt to be on the jerky side of that attention, particularly so because she found she cared. She lifted her chin and blinked back a sudden wash of tears at his rebuff. “You’re not the only one who is concerned,” she said stiffly. “But I can see that I’m not welcome. Goodbye then.”

  What a jerk, she thought, fuming with equal parts hurt and anger at his attitude. No matter what, she’d always be on the outside looking in when it came to him. And why did she care? She wasn’t looking to build something with Owen Garrett so what was with the mopey, mournful feeling in her chest that felt like an elephant had used it for a stepping stool? She was nearly to her car when she felt an arm reach out and haul her up against a solid chest, seconds before two strong, calloused hands cupped her face to cover her mouth with lips that felt familiar yet strange. The contradiction, coupled with the foggy memory of the other night, fired her blood with the speed of a triple espresso mainlined into her vein.

  “You’re driving me crazy, woman,” he growled against her mouth, sliding his tongue into her mouth, claiming it for his own as he had before. Her knees threatened to buckle and he pressed her against her car, leaning into her as if he couldn’t get enough. He broke the drugging kiss and she peered into eyes she could easily—and happily—drown in. He said with a tight, pained voice, “I can’t leave. I wish I could. You’ve been on my mind since last night and we have things we need to discuss but you have to understand that Gretchen needs me right now and I can’t walk away. I won’t. And if you’re expecting me to, you’re not the woman I’d hoped you were.”

  She staggered under the weight of his statement, wondering at it, too. He wanted to believe in her. She swallowed, the echo of her father’s information pressing heavily on her. She couldn’t very well drop that bombshell on him right now; he had enough pressure. He didn’t need something like that to bury him.

  “I understand,” she said softly, liking the feel of him against her very much. The relief in his eyes made her newfound knowledge a terribly heavy burden to bear but she found she was willing to carry it for a little while longer if only to see that look in his eyes again. That look said he wanted her, hungered for her and she’d never been on the receiving end of all that heated attention before. An all-over shiver caressed her body as surely as the memory of his hands and his eyes darkened as he caught the delicate motion.

  He closed his eyes briefly as if questioning his own sanity and she wanted to tell him she understood because she had a few questions of her own. She remained silent, though, not willing to break the spell between them, but Owen broke it for her, pulling away with open regret that she savored like a junkie with a fix.

  “Will you stay?” he asked.

  If she stayed, what would people say? Someone was bound to see her and tongues would start to wag. It might get back to her editor, or the publisher. Would they care? It was highly likely. Charlie would whine into his uncle’s ear that she’d lost her objectivity and he might pull her from the beat and switch her with Charlie’s education beat—oh, God, the very idea sent a roll of nausea straight to her stomach—and she’d never get the chance to write usable clippings for her portfolio. She nibbled her bottom lip, caught between wanting to go with Owen and walking away to preserve her career.

  But in the end, those eyes, piercing and knowing, drew her in, hypnotizing her with their warmth and depth, the way they changed with his mood and seemed to zero in on her most private thoughts with unerring accuracy. She hitched a breath and managed a smile as she slipped her hand into his and reminded herself, even as they walked through the hospital doors, that it was all for research. She needed access to Owen Garrett. And if that meant standing by his side as he went through a crisis, she’d do it—because that’s what professionals do. They go after the story…no matter what.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  AFTER TEN HOURS OF LABOR, Gretchen pushed out a slimy, wiggly baby girl who was immediately rushed to the NICU because of her tiny size. At barely thirty-one weeks, the two-pounder needed a little help breathing but otherwise she looked good—at least, according to the doctor.

  “So, she’s going to be okay?” Gretchen asked, tears in her eyes. Timothy hovered by her side, not saying much but listening very intently. “She’s so small.”

  “She’s not out of the woods yet but she’s got a good birth weight considering her prematurity. You can go see her in a little while. The nurses are stabilizing her body temperature because preemies have a difficult time regulating their temperature on their own.”

  Owen breathed a sigh of relief and Timothy’s shoulders seemed to sag a bit. He glanced at Piper standing off to the side, not wanting to intrude on the moment. But she’d remained the entire time, pacing the waiting room with the rest of them, so he figured she’d earned the right to let Gretchen know she was there. He gestured to her and she shook her head. He motioned again as if to say C’mon, you big chicken, and she came reluctantly into the room. Gretchen’s expression registered shock, then she managed a wan smile.

  “Hello again,” she said.

  Quinn said, “Ms. Sunday brought me.”

  Gretchen nodded in thanks, but Owen could tell it would be a long time, if ever, before these two women would be best friends. In spite of the exhaustion ringing Gretchen’s eyes, she glanced from Owen to Piper and her mouth tightened with knowing. He figured he was going to get an earful when she was up and running again but she’d come around once she realized Piper wasn’t out to destroy him. At least, he hoped. Otherwise, things were likely to get uncomfortable around Big Trees Logging with him getting cozy with Piper.

  To his surprise, Gretchen offered him a smile and asked for a moment alone with Piper. He looked to Piper, who seemed equally shocked by the request and wondered if this was the mother of all bad ideas. “Are you sure? You ought to be resting….”

  “It’ll just be a minute,” she promised.

  Owen bent to hug Gretchen and Timothy moved fro
m his designated spot.

  “Is there anything you need?” Timothy asked Gretchen before leaving the room.

  “I’m good.” She graced him with a smile that was both sweet and appreciative and Owen saw the tiniest flicker of something pass between the two that had never been there before—at least not on Gretchen’s end—and Owen bit back a tired grin. He’d never considered himself a matchmaker, but he liked to think he helped make whatever was going on between Gretchen and Timothy happen. Unless it didn’t work out—then he didn’t have anything to do with it. He swallowed a chuckle at his own private humor.

  “All right…I guess I’ll wait for you outside,” he said to Piper, still not sure leaving the two women alone was prudent.

  Well, he figured, at the very least, Gretchen was too weak to do too much damage. At least, he hoped that was the case.

  “I—”

  “He’s a good man,” Gretchen cut in, getting right to it. “Don’t hurt him.”

  “I’m not out to hurt anyone,” she said evenly, though a twinge of guilt poked through her fatigue. “But he’s a big boy. He can take care of himself. He doesn’t need a champion.”

  “You don’t know what he needs. You don’t know him.”

  “I’d like to know him better,” Piper said. “And I think the feeling is mutual.”

  At that, Gretchen nodded with what looked like resignation and Piper had to wonder if Gretchen had entertained thoughts of a romantic nature in regards to Owen. She straightened and met Gretchen’s stare, waiting to see which way things were going to go. Then Gretchen yawned and the fight seemed to drain out of her. “Thanks for bringing Quinn.”

  “Sure.” A moment passed by, then she added, “You know…it seems a good man has his eye on you, in case you’re interested.”

  Gretchen smiled and closed her eyes. “Timothy.”