Secrets in a Small Town Page 9

  And that included moonlighting.

  With only one newspaper in town and most newspapers in the immediate area in a hiring freeze, she couldn’t afford to lose her position at the Tribune. Damn Charlie for knowing it, too.

  She turned. “What are you talking about?” she asked, blinking in what she hoped appeared as confusion.

  “Don’t go all Bambi eyes on me. I know you’ve been doing all this after-hours research on the Red Meadows raid. You’re not the only one who pays attention.”

  She shrugged. “What’s your point? What I do on my own time is my own.”

  “Yeah, but you’re not just doing this stuff on your own time. You’re using company time to do your research.”

  “Prove it. In the meantime, get out of my space. You’re contaminating the energy with your negative, slimy self. It’s a wonder they let you around kids, Charlie,” she said, secretly holding her breath. She couldn’t show weakness around the little worm. He’d run to his uncle for sure.

  Since she didn’t cave or quail, Charlie had nothing to build on. Frustration laced his tone as he exited, saying, “You’re going to slip up and when you do…I’ll be there.”

  As soon as he was gone, she exhaled. Crud. He was hot on her tail. She’d need to be more careful around the tattletale. No more sneaking off to do research.

  She sighed and prepared to make up a plausible excuse for blowing off the biggest ego in Dayton.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  OWEN WALKED INTO THE HOSPITAL, Quinn at his side, with a large bouquet of flowers in his hand.

  “Do you think she’ll like these flowers?” he asked Quinn in an attempt to lighten the mood. Quinn had been quiet since he’d picked her up from school and that wasn’t like the little chatterbox. She worried her bottom lip and the usual sparkle in her eyes had been replaced by fear and trepidation. He wished she didn’t have to go through something like this. It wasn’t right for a kid to have to deal with the kind of violence Quinn had seen.

  Quinn nodded in answer as they rounded the corner to Gretchen’s room, where she’d been downgraded from intensive care to a standard room earlier that afternoon while he’d been with Piper.

  He peeked inside and swallowed when he saw Gretchen lying against the white pillow, her eyes closed. He looked to Quinn and put a finger to his lips with a “shh,” and they padded silently into the room.

  Owen placed the bouquet vase—which happened to be in the shape of a stork, because that’s all the florist had on such short notice so late in the afternoon—on the small bedside table, and tried to hold back the wince when he caught Gretchen’s battered face. “Oh, man,” he breathed, taking in the full extent of her injuries. She’d been beaten within an inch of her life it seemed. He was afraid to look at her belly. It was hard to tell with the blankets covering her if her stomach had lost the basketball roundness she’d been sporting a few days earlier.

  “Mama,” Quinn whispered, tears clogging her voice. She stared up at Owen, looking for answers he didn’t have. Quinn tried again. “Mama? It’s Quinn…”

  Gretchen’s eyes opened but her gaze remained bleary and unfocused. Quinn approached the bed and gently touched her mama’s hand. It was enough to make Owen choke up. God, he hoped to hell the cops had found Danny and put his ass in jail for what he’d done.

  “Owen,” Gretchen’s voice sounded like she’d eaten gravel for breakfast. She smiled weakly at Quinn. “Thanks for taking care of my girl.”

  “You don’t even have to ask,” he said gruffly. “How are you feeling?” If the way she looked was any indication, she probably felt like crap. She made a small expression that said “eh, I’ve been better” but she attempted a wider smile. She was a trouper. Now for the hard question. He swallowed and gestured toward her belly. “What about the baby?”

  She nodded. “Baby is fine. It’s another girl.” Gretchen said to Quinn. “You’re getting a baby sister.”

  “A sister?” Quinn’s voice brightened. “Does that mean I get to name her?”

  Gretchen nodded. “That was the deal. Better put your thinking cap on. It has to be the most perfect name ever because she’s been through a lot already.”

  “Oh, it will be,” Quinn promised fervently then sobered, the worry returning to her voice. “When are you coming home, Mama?”

  “Soon, sweetheart,” Gretchen answered. “Can you do me a favor, sugar?” Quinn nodded. “Can you go ask the nurse for some more water for me. I’m pretty thirsty and my pitcher is empty.”

  “Yes, Mama,” Quinn said, grabbing the pitcher and disappearing from the room.

  “That was a ploy to get her out of the room, wasn’t it?” Owen asked. “What’s wrong?”

  She closed her eyes and winced as she tried to move a little. “Cops haven’t found Danny yet. I’m scared of what he might do when he finds out the cops are looking for him. The house is leased in his name. I can’t go back there. I don’t know what to do. Can you keep Quinn for a few more days until I figure out where we can stay? I know it’s a lot to ask and I’ll understand if you say no. I just don’t know who to turn to.” A small tear escaped and slid down her cheek. He hated to see a woman cry and he’d do anything to keep it from happening.

  “You can stay with me,” he offered, his mouth working faster than his head. He wondered what Piper would think of another woman moving into his house. He supposed she wouldn’t care two figs, since they weren’t anything to one another. Gretchen stared, uncomprehending. “Yeah, well, it’s nothing fancy but it’ll do in a pinch. I’ve a spare bedroom you can share with Quinn. We’ll get this figured out. I don’t need you worrying about your safety with that asshole out there. My house is at least safe even if it’s not the lap of luxury.”

  “Why would you do this for us?” she asked, blinking back tears.

  “Because you’re a good employee and I don’t want the hassle of training someone new,” he joked, but there was some truth to his blithe statement. He didn’t have time to interview and then babysit someone new when Gretchen was the best office manager he’d ever had. If he had to put her up for a few days, it was worth his sanity and his productivity.

  She smiled around her cracked lip. “Well, you have a point there,” she said. “Then, I accept your offer. Thank you. We appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” It felt good to help, but he had to know one more thing. “Is it over between you and Danny Mathers?” he asked, then gestured at her injuries. “What happened? I figured him for a loser but not a violent one.”

  She drew a shuddering breath and more tears leaked down her face. “It’s definitely over. He tried to kill me. Said he didn’t want the baby and it was my fault for pressuring him into fatherhood. He didn’t care if we lived or died. How could I have been so blind?”

  “We’ve all made bad calls in our life,” he said, trying to offer some kind of solace but rage had kindled in his gut at the new information. “The police talk to you yet?” he asked, his voice rough.

  She nodded. “I gave a statement about an hour ago.” Her unhappy frown gave way to more tears. “I never imagined he could be so cruel. I just thought he had cold feet and he’d come around but I never suspected… Oh, God, Owen, he could’ve hurt Quinn, too. I get sick to my stomach just thinking of what he could’ve done to her if he was willing to do what he did to his own child.”

  Owen didn’t have any words of comfort that wouldn’t sound disingenuous so he remained silent and let her cry it out. She gingerly wiped away the remaining tears and he handed her a fresh tissue for her nose. “It’s going to be all right,” he assured her, all the while entertaining dark fantasies of mayhem against Danny Mathers. Heaven help the man if Owen got a hold of him before the cops did. In the meantime, he’d do whatever he had to to keep Quinn and Gretchen safe. “We’ll get everything figured out.”

  She flashed him a watery smile and shook her head. “If only people knew the real you. They’d forget about all that other stuff, you know?”

&nbs
p; He thought of Piper and the possibility of clearing his father’s name. Wouldn’t it be great to be able to walk down the street without feeling as if he had to defend his every action? Hell yes. Maybe he’d even get the fresh start he’d been trying to achieve since moving back. The idea was enough to make him yearn for the future in more ways than just safeguarding his livelihood. He crooked a smile at Gretchen. “I told you to keep that on the down low. I don’t want my secret to get out,” he teased, reaching to pat her hand softly. “Get some rest. I’ll check in on you tomorrow. Don’t worry about Quinn. I managed to figure out the school scheduling thing and everything is fine.”

  “You’re awesome,” Gretchen said, smiling with true relief. “I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”

  “You just focus on getting better. We’ll figure everything else out later.”

  She nodded, her eyes drifting shut as she succumbed to the fatigue he read in her expression. The burden she carried, he couldn’t imagine. It was easy for him to say that she’d better drop the SOB who put her in the hospital but his dad had once told him “the heart wants want the heart wants and sometimes it defies reason.”

  He hoped to God that Gretchen’s heart wanted nothing to do with Danny Mathers from here on out but he knew better than to assume anything.

  PIPER FINISHED HER MORNING yoga and with music blaring, she spent an extra ten minutes exfoliating so that when she shaved her legs they’d be extra smooth—not for any particular reason but if Owen happened to notice, that wouldn’t be too awful—and since she lived alone, she didn’t bother covering with her towel when she was dried.

  Still humming, she crossed the hallway and went into her living room with the intent to grab some orange juice in the kitchen but she shrieked when she realized she wasn’t alone.

  “Farley! What are you doing here?” she asked, her hands flying to shield her breasts and private parts. “Good God! Close your eyes or turn around, please.”

  Farley chuckled and made a show of covering his eyes but then peeped through his fingers. “Ah, gotcha,” he teased but when she continued to glare at him, he sighed and did as she asked.

  The nerve, she fumed as she jerked a robe over her body. She was going to have to talk to her parents about Farley. He was getting out of control. She stared Farley down, hoping he read the fury in her eyes as she said, “This is unacceptable. You can’t come into my home like you own it or something. I’m within my rights to call the cops, you know.”

  “I apologize,” Farley said, the seeming picture of contrition but there was something else lurking in his gaze and to her mind it looked suspiciously like delight at catching her naked, which only caused her temper to spike even higher. She was about to pick up her cell phone and report him when he said, “But I think I may have found something of importance to you.”

  “Yeah? Such as?” she asked warily. She couldn’t imagine there was anything Farley knew that she didn’t already. It wasn’t as if Farley were a fountain of untapped knowledge.

  “First, a kiss…” he suggested, and she balked.

  “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack,” Farley answered with a grin.

  “Farley…you have ten seconds to get your butt out of my house before I report you to the cops for breaking and entering, peeping and whatever else cops charge people with for generally annoying the crap out of a person.”

  “One kiss?”

  She held up her fist. “How about a knuckle sandwich?”

  He grimaced, disappointment evident. “It’s a box,” he answered dully, all play leaching from his tone as he continued. She almost felt sorry for him. She imagined it was hard to be in love with someone who didn’t feel the same for you. “I was busy cleaning out the old shed behind the greenhouse and found a box of stuff you might want to sift through.”

  So far she wasn’t intrigued. “And why would I want to look through an old box?” she asked, irritated.

  “Because it’s full of your old things from when you lived on the farm. I guess your parents forgot about the old shed. It’s got some little mementos and stuff I thought you might like to hang on to. It’s in the car. I’ll leave it on the porch for you.”

  She suppressed another wave of annoyance but she held her tongue. Farley looked fairly miserable and she wasn’t cruel. Attempting a smile for old times’ sake, she said, “Thank you, Farley. I’ll check it out. I appreciate you letting me know.”

  “Of course,” he said, his adoring grin returning. “Happy to help.”

  She pointed toward the door. “Now, out. And don’t pull another stunt like this or, I swear, you’ll regret it.”

  “My apologies,” he murmured, his cheeks reddening. “I didn’t think you’d mind…given as how we were both raised on the farm.”

  “Well, I don’t live on the farm any longer and I do mind. I mind very much.”

  He nodded and ducked out, closing the door behind him.

  Piper rolled her eyes to the ceiling and blew out a short breath. What was she going to do with that love-sick man? Honestly…

  For a moment, she imagined that instead of Farley standing there it had been Owen. She sucked in a tight breath and she laughed shakily. Wow. That was…telling.

  Well, all she could say about that was thank God it hadn’t been Owen standing there after all.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  OWEN HELPED GRETCHEN from the truck, worried about her every move, every wince.

  “You okay?” he asked for the tenth time in as many minutes as they walked slowly to the front door. “Maybe I should carry you. Or maybe I should’ve rented a wheelchair.” He bunched his brows, mentally berating himself for not thinking ahead. “I could go back and get one for you if you need…”

  “I’m not going to let you carry or push me,” Gretchen said, determined even though her bruises stood out in the sunlight. Her rounded belly protruded stubbornly in spite of her ordeal. She picked her way toward the door, waving him away. “Stop hovering, Owen, before I go insane. I’ll be fine. Just go open the door for me.”

  “Right.” Owen rushed to do as instructed. He was way out of his element. He’d never had much experience with caregiving though he’d spent enough time smoothing over the rough spots his brothers had often left behind with their high-spirited ways. The irony that Thomas had gone into law enforcement within the FBI never failed to amuse him. He held the door open for Gretchen and escorted her to the bedroom that would be hers and Quinn’s for the time being.

  He wasn’t lying when he’d told her it wasn’t fancy. He’d always imagined that Mama Jo would spruce it up when she visited but he hadn’t been able to persuade her to come to California in all the years since he’d packed up and moved from Bridgeport, West Virginia. The sparse room seemed a mirror to his life, he thought irritably. Of course, he’d imagined things a lot differently at one time. He gestured toward the closet, eager to put his mind back on task. “Make yourself at home. I have extra blankets in the closet and don’t hesitate to ask if you need something.”

  Gretchen absently rubbed her belly, an echo of sadness in the slow, soothing action, and a memory long buried rose to the surface.

  A woman he didn’t know—wouldn’t dare talk to—and his father.

  It’d been summer and they’d left the compound to pick up supplies, but they’d taken a detour to a place he hadn’t recognized. His father had instructed him to remain in the old Ford truck as he went to the door of the small cottage.

  She came to the door wearing a cream gauzy sundress that dusted her bare knees. Her rounded shoulders matched the subtle rounding of her belly. Her hands caressed the bump even as she and his father began to argue. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but his father seemed very frustrated. Tears were streaming down her face. She reached up to touch his father on his cheek, the motion loving yet urgent, and Owen’s eyes widened in shock. Then his father lightly touched her stomach. Owen’s confusion warred with revulsion.

  The wom
an was black.

  And his father was touching her with kindness…even desperate longing. No, this was wrong, he thought. His father would explain.

  But Ty hadn’t explained. When Owen had questioned him, almost demanding an answer, his father hadn’t been able to say much more than, “Not everything is as it seems, so just mind your own business and keep it to yourself, son.”

  Owen hadn’t mentioned it again. Not that he’d had the chance.

  Two days later, the woman was dead and a week later, so was his father.

  “You okay, Owen?” Gretchen queried now, catching a remnant of that disturbing memory in his gaze. She reached out to him, worried. “You look like you just saw a ghost or something. You’re white as a sheet.”

  He chuckled at her observation, waving off her concern. “You don’t need to be worrying about me. You just focus on healing. I’m fine. I promise,” he assured her when she refused to be mollified. He loved that about Gretchen—she was always considering others before herself. Except, he wished she’d put herself first before that jackass roughed her up. Maybe if she’d done that, she might’ve walked before it was too late.

  “Should I make something for dinner tonight?” she asked, and he immediately balked.

  “Woman, what part of rest don’t you understand?” he asked, shaking his head when she frowned and began to protest.

  “I have to do something to earn our keep here,” Gretchen said, resolute determination in her face. “I’m no freeloader.”

  “No, you’re pregnant and injured. That constitutes needing a little pampering. I’ll pick something up on my way home each night. No cooking. Besides, I don’t even know if I have much more than one pot and a skillet. Not sure you could make much of a meal with that.”

  That seemed to make some sense to her and she backed down, but Owen had a feeling it was only a temporary concession on her part. Gretchen had a mind of her own when it came to certain things. He suppressed a sigh and gestured. “Do you need anything else? I have to head back to town for a few things.”