Kris Fletcher - Picket Fence Surprise

Still the same brother who had defended her the only way he knew how—with his fists. And who, after the boyfriend ended up in the hospital, had been taken away from her in handcuffs.

His last words to their mother had been an order to keep the bastards away from Heather.

She closed her eyes and gripped the phone, taking a moment to breathe past the tightness in her throat. “Yeah. It’s good. I’m glad for him, but I guess I’m like you. Too damned old for that nonsense.”

“You sure?”

Crap. He knew she was upset. He would never believe the truth—that it was worry about him that had her on edge.

“Right as rain, sunshine.” She flipped through the pages of the notebook, grounding herself in the safety of the one thing she could control—her work. “Right as rain.”

* * *

XANDER CLOSED DOWN his computer, cracked a few jokes with his fellow employees as they walked to the parking lot, got into his car and stared at the wheel. Where to now?

It was Friday night. He didn’t have Cady. He didn’t have a date.

He could call Heather...

But no. She’d been upfront, honest and determined. It wasn’t gonna happen.

Move along, Xander. Nothing to see here.

Some of his coworkers were getting together for a beer, but the couple of times he’d joined them had been enough. They were great people. Salt of the earth, easy to work with, and none of them gave a rat’s ass about what he had or hadn’t done before he landed at Northstar Dairy. If any of them needed help moving or decided to have everyone over for a barbecue, Xander would be glad to join in.

But they tended to fall into two groups: the ones who would close down the bar, and the ones who had to book off to get home to their families. He wasn’t either of those. And since he didn’t want to end the evening feeling either ancient or jealous, he opted to pass.

Instead, he sent Darcy a text. Going out for a ramble. Want me to take Lulu?

Her reply was swift: Perfect timing. She’s been whining at the fence all day, and I have to meet the florist. Come and get her.

Darcy had barely opened the door when Lulu bounded out of the house and ran in excited barking circles.

“Easy girl! Easy!” He squatted and scratched behind fuzzy ears. “You been driving Darcy crazy today?”

“Put it this way—we’re both ready for a little bit of time away from each other.” Her smile took any sting out of the words. “Ian already took Cady over to his mother’s. They’re having high tea, I believe. I’m supposed to meet them there after I’m done.”

“You mean Ian doesn’t have to sit through flower discussions? How’d he get so lucky?”

“Oh, trust me, he’s not getting a free ride. He got stuck figuring out the seating arrangements.” She tipped her head conspiratorially. “With both his mother and mine.”

“And he was still willing to go through with the wedding? Damn, Darce.” He whistled. “Now that’s love.”

She laughed and waved him away. “Go on. Lulu is going to claw the paint off your car if you don’t get moving.”

He retreated, opened the door for the whining, wriggling dog and hit the road. Fifteen minutes later, he bounced his way down a rutted, overgrown path and pulled up behind a bank of aging willows. He killed the engine, hopped out, stretched and opened the door for Lulu.

“There you go, girl. Stay close.”

She barked and bounded away. Probably hunting for squirrels, not that she would know what to do with one if she caught it. He watched her run for a minute, leaning against the car and letting the peace soak into him. Funny. At home, silence made him itchy, but it had the opposite effect out here in the boonies.

After a couple of minutes spent with his face tipped up to the sky and happy barks echoing in his head, he opened the trunk, grabbed his camera and headed for the sagging buildings beyond the willows.

He’d stumbled across this place by accident soon after he moved, when he got lost while trying to see the sights around his new home. He hadn’t ventured off the road that time. But something about the droop of the roof and the way the outbuildings were falling into piles of brick and stone had stuck in his memory. The next time he saw Ian—who had spent the bulk of his life in Comeback Cove—he asked about it.

“Sounds like the old Cline place,” Ian had said. “It’s been empty since I was in high school. Maybe even longer. It used to be the place to go on a dare. Or a date when you really wanted to impress someone with your bravery.”

Was it any wonder that Xander felt compelled to explore it after that?

The first few times he came out here, he hadn’t had an agenda. He’d simply wanted to get a feel for what it used to be like, to see what years of emptiness could do to a building. He always stayed outside, walking the perimeter, cupping his hands to peer through dust-coated windows. It looked as though even the teenagers had given up on the place. Raccoons and rodents seemed to be the primary occupants these days. He was, undoubtedly, a fool to continue poking around.

But he could never quite forget it. Especially after he started taking pictures that showed the layers of time between the house and the present—cobwebs over brambles over grasses—or those that captured spots where a listing step was bookended by wild roses.

Mesmerizing.

Yeah. Heather had nailed it. He was fascinated by the place, both in person and in pictures. It seemed to whisper to him, words only he could hear. Words and pictures of secrets waiting to be uncovered.

Xander had always been a sucker for secrets.

Camera in hand, he strode toward the house, taking care to whistle and make a healthy abundance of noise. Lulu’s barking had probably already alerted any critters to his presence, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. He might be nosy, but he wasn’t a complete idiot.

“Hey, house. Mind if I have a look around?”

He had never ventured deeper than the front porch. That was close enough to poke his camera through the empty windows and get shots of lonely interior rooms. Once he’d stumbled over a nest of newborn mice, and one time his flash had sent something deeper into the shadows, scaring the crap out of him, but the pictures were worth the fright. After all, it wasn’t like he was facing down big game. He was more likely to go through a rotten board than to come face-to-face with any living danger.

Don’t go again, okay?

He wondered if Heather had noticed that he hadn’t answered.

He made his way up the now-familiar path to the tilted porch, stepping cautiously around weeds and rocks. The sound of panting from behind him made him pause, but only for a second.

“Back already?”

Lulu wagged her tail.

“Fine by me. I always did like your company.”

He made his way around the side of the porch. He knew the shot he wanted—the aging maple against the overgrown field, framed by the once-sturdy rail and ceiling of the porch. It took a few attempts from a handful of different angles, but he finally got one that came close to what he had in mind.

When he was done, he shot off a few more. Lulu rolling on the grass. A spiderweb stretched across a window. The patch of sky visible through a jagged hole in the porch roof.

But when he was done, he found himself staring at the overgrown door of the abandoned house.

He could still hear Heather’s hushed voice as she leaned closer to the photo of that entry.

Mesmerizing.

And some stupid part of him, some stubborn streak that refused to listen to sense and reason, kept wondering what would happen if he were to open it.

* * *

ONE WEEK LATER, Xander peeked at the clear blue of the sky, decided the weather forecasters had totally miscalled it when they predicted rain and grabbed the diaper backpack.