It was after midnight by the time Meredith checked into a suite at the Bourbonville Inn with her sister’s two children. The authorities still hadn’t located Dexter, her sister’s husband. Detective Jorgenson assured her the children weren’t in any danger.
Dexter’s thumping on Anne wasn’t anything new, but Anne always covered for him. Why, Meredith didn’t know. Perhaps Anne thought it was normal since that’s how they grew up—their dad beat their mom. Just one of the many reasons Meredith left town the day she graduated from high school without so much as a glance back.
Meredith had planned to get Anne out of Bourbonville as well, but before Anne graduated from high school, she got pregnant and married Dexter, that piece of trash who resembled their dad. Meredith slammed her fist against her thigh. She should have tried harder to get her sister to leave, but with each passing day, her life in Bourbonville had become a distant memory.
Thirteen-year-old Iris took a seat on the oversized chair with four-year-old Frannie on her lap. Little Frannie was the spitting image of her mother—long, curly brown hair, big round milk-chocolate eyes, and fair skin.
Iris, on the other hand, actually resembled her. Straight, jet-black hair, dark almond-shaped eyes, and olive-toned skin.
Frannie looked up at her through teary lashes. She wondered if the tiny girl really comprehended what had taken place earlier in the evening and why her eyes were watery now.
The detective told her that Iris and Frannie had been woken up by the altercation between their parents and that Iris had slipped out the back door of the trailer with Frannie and called the cops from the neighbor’s house. But it was too late. Meredith swallowed hard. Anne was gone.
Meredith’s gaze drifted to Iris. The teenage girl stared forward, emotionless. She hadn’t cried or spoken a word since she picked them up from her great-aunt Mildred’s small apartment. Why did the only living relative on their side of the family have to be knocking on the door of ninety? As the detective pointed out, there was no other family for the children to be placed with. Most of Dexter’s relatives were in prison or so drugged up, they didn’t know which end was up.
What in the hell was she going to do with two kids? Her career was soaring. She didn’t have time for this. But it was her or Aunt Mildred…or foster care. Guilt gripped her spine. What was she thinking? No time. Her lack—selfish use of her time—is exactly what caused her sister’s early demise. She couldn’t risk leaving her nieces in this awful town. She’d never be able to live with herself if something happened to them, like what had happened to their mother.
“Well, I suppose we should get some rest and then figure out what to do in the morning,” Meredith said.
Iris just nodded at her.
Meredith pointed to one of the bedrooms. “You two can sleep in there.” Then she pointed at the other room. “I’ll be right in there.”
Iris rose with Frannie in her arms. The little girl looked so tired she probably wouldn’t be able to walk anyhow.
Meredith grabbed the girls’ duffle bag and followed them into their room.
“Do you need anything?” she asked.
Iris shook her head.
“Well, I’ll just be in the other room if you do.”
Without a word, Iris turned away from her and set her sister on the bed, then retrieved a set of small pink pajamas from their bag.
Anne’s lovely face flashed through Meredith’s mind. She wore her usual warm smile.
Meredith’s pulse thudded. The words she imagined her sister had said seemed so real. So like kind, sweet Anne to let her off the hook. Tears pooled in Meredith’s eyes. She slammed her fist into her pillow. Guilt rocked her body. She couldn’t breathe. It was her fault her sister had been murdered. If she’d only yanked Anne out of Bourbonville as she’d planned, she wouldn’t be dead now. But no, she left her poor, younger sister there in the hands of monsters. First their dad and then Dexter.
Knowing sleep wouldn’t come, Meredith opened her laptop and worked on a proposal she needed to complete for an upcoming presentation to the Louisville Planning Commission. Pride swept through her as the cover page flashed on the screen. This project was like her baby and the most multifaceted undertaking thus far in her career.
Normally, her company developed new housing projects all over the country, but in this case, they decided to branch out and do something different. The project involved rehabbing a 200-unit, low-income housing facility. The complex was built in the early eighties, and not one dime had been put into the upkeep of these apartments in all that time. The estimated rehabilitation cost per unit approached $40,000. The challenge would be to raise that much money to rehab the units without raising rents since the folks living there could hardly afford the rent they were already paying.
Since identifying that a ton of these run-down complexes existed, Meredith did some research, analyzed the information, and came up with a plan on how to make this type of project profitable. Breaking into this market could mean a ton of work on the horizon for Banner Development. The complicated part of this type of development would be to learn how to not only apply for federal grant credits but to quickly earn more grant credit points than their competitors.
Last week she’d printed a hard copy of Banner’s application, and it required an eight-inch binder to hold it all. She’d spent a year of her life preparing the application and only needed to secure a few more points from the city of Louisville. The process started with the city’s planning commission. This was the project that would secure her promotion. Too bad Sawyer, her only competition for the CEO position, pooh-poohed this idea, but good for her.
Meredith flipped through the presentation screens, updating them as she went along. It was nearly complete, and she knew she needed to stop looking—tweaking it at some point. Now was that point. It was as good as it would get.
After saving her presentation, Meredith popped into her internet browser. Her fingers shook as she called up the website for the Nordman Funeral Home. She’d never imagined she’d be contacting a funeral home for her thirty-two-year-old sister. Through blurry vision, she stared at the screen, trying to make sense of it all. She blew out a sigh. Nine a.m. Why did they have to open so late? She’d have to hurry is all. If she got there right at nine o’clock, she should be out of there by ten, and if traffic wasn’t an issue, she could ditch her nieces at her apartment and have no trouble making it to work for her 11:00 a.m. client meeting. Iris, being thirteen, was old enough to stay home alone with Frannie, right?
A glance at her watch let her know she’d better hop in the shower. She’d have just enough time to get ready before having to wake up her nieces.
Meredith practically ran through the shower, then slipped into her black silk suit. For the sake of time, she pulled her hair into a ponytail secured at her nape, then she applied a bit of makeup.
She was doing well on time. Hopefully, the girls wouldn’t hold her up any. Spinning on her spike-heeled shoes, she made her way to the bedroom where her nieces slept. Iris’s head popped up the second she opened the door.
“Good morning.”
Her niece looked at her as if she’d just said the stupidest thing ever. Meredith supposed she had. How could today possibly be good? They would soon be on their way to make funeral arrangements for the one person who loved them.
“Sorry, but we need to get going.”
Iris shook her younger sister. “Wake up, Frannie. We need to go.”
Frannie moaned but made no move nor opened her eyes.
Iris flung the covers back, rolled off the large bed, and then walked to the other side where she aligned her face with her sister’s. “Come on, Frannie. You have to wake up.”
The little girl’s eyes fluttered open. “Where’s Momma?”
Meredith’s breath caught in her throat. How in the hell was she going to explain this to a four-year-old?
“Heaven,” Iris choked out. “I’ll be taking care of you now.”
Iris stood and squared her shoulders. All emotion in her gaze faded. “We’ll be out in a minute.”
So, this is how it would be for Iris. At thirteen years old, she’d bestow this responsibility upon herself. Meredith’s heart cracked in half with her next thought. Likely, at some point—because of Frannie’s young age—all her memories of her wonderful, loving mother would probably fade into nothing. At least Iris should always be able to recall fond memories of her mom and carry the love of her mother in her heart.
Iris cleared her throat. “We won’t be long,” the young girl said, dismissing Meredith in a tone almost as if she didn’t like her. But why? They didn’t really even know each other.
Meredith left the bedroom and waited in the living room for only a few minutes before the girls surfaced. Iris held her sister’s hand and gripped their small duffel bag in the other. She supposed she’d have to stop back at their mobile home at some point to pick up the girls’ things. Maybe later this weekend. For now, they needed to get business taken care of at the funeral home so she could get back to the city—to work.
They loaded into her new Cadillac SUV and drove the four minutes it took to get across town to the funeral home. Mr. Nordman greeted them at the door, offering his condolences. The old man had to be pushing eighty. Meredith was surprised one of his sons hadn’t taken over by now.
Within minutes they’d sat down in his office to take care of business while the girls waited in the lobby area. There was no need for them to have to listen to the awful details of their mother’s arrangements.
“So, will you be laying your sister to rest by your parents?”
“Absolutely not. I don’t want her anywhere near them.”
Mr. Nordman flinched as if she’d slapped him across the face. Why wouldn’t he? Meredith’s reactionary tone was harsh to even her own ears.
“Sorry. I would like to have Anne cremated.”
“No problem. What about a service?” he asked kindly.
The man stared at her. He probably thought she was the most uncaring person ever when her heart was broken. She just didn’t feel the need to prolong the agony for her nieces or herself. What’s done is done, and their only option was to move on.
“Okay. Well, would you like to pick out the urn?”
Meredith nodded.
He handed her a small book. She lifted her sweaty palms from her lap and took it from him. Hollowness filled her chest as she glanced at the options. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision. By far, this was the most awful thing she’d ever done, and none of these urns were good enough for her sweet sister. Then she happened upon a taller, slim, off-white urn with butterflies flying around a pink rose. Butterflies. Appropriate for her sister, who was as soft and gentle as a butterfly. And a lovely, pink rose. Pink, her sister’s favorite color. But it was the gold, heart-shaped locket attached to the urn that drew Meredith’s attention. Years ago, at the Bourbonville Pastures Carnival, both she and Anne had won heart-shaped lockets playing the ring toss game. They put their pictures in those lockets and wore them every day. Meredith hadn’t worn or even thought about that locket for years. Yes, this was the perfect urn for Anne.
Meredith glanced at her watch. It was time to get going if she was going to make her meeting.
She loaded the girls into her SUV and sped off.
“Are we going to school today?” Iris asked as she pointed out the window at the school.
“No. Not today. I have to get back to Louisville. I have a very important meeting today. I’m going to drop you two off at my apartment and then go to work.”
Iris nodded.
Meredith pulled onto the highway and blew out a breath of relief when she saw the traffic was minimal. Likely, she was just behind the morning commute rush. Though, if memory served her, the rush wasn’t usually too bad this far out from Louisville, but knowing a traffic problem would begin at the edge of the city for sure, she pressed the accelerator a bit harder than she should. Her slightly faster-than-normal speed wasn’t a problem until she rounded the next bend and passed by a squad car partially hidden behind a row of trees lining a dirt driveway to a field. Red and blue lights filled her rearview mirror.
Reluctantly, Meredith pulled onto the gravel shoulder, pulled her registration from the visor, and her license from her wallet. She cared less about the ticket she was surely going to get than the time she was losing.
It seemed to take forever for the deputy to approach her vehicle. “What in the world is he doing back there?”
Finally, he stood next to her window. “Good morning, ma’am.”
“Morning.”
“Do you know how fast you were going?”
She sure did, and it was completely intentional.
Her gaze dropped. “Yes. I’m afraid I’m running late.”
“I see,” he replied as he leaned forward. “Hi Iris,” he said as he leaned even farther into the vehicle. “Hey there, Frannie.”
Meredith caught Frannie’s wide smile. Her nieces knew the deputy. Why wouldn’t they? He’d probably been to their house a thousand times.
The deputy returned his gaze to Meredith. “I’m sorry about your sister.”
“Thank you.”
“Just slow down. Okay?”
She nodded.
Back on the road, Meredith fought her heavy foot. The last thing she needed was to get pulled over again—lose more time.
They were hardly down the road when Meredith felt the need to peel her eyes from the pavement and look at the clock on the dashboard. She returned her gaze to the road. Her heart leaped into her throat at the sight of a tall, young-looking, muscular man jumping up and down and waving his arms almost like he was doing jumping jacks—and he was in her lane. What in the hell was this fruit loop doing? Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of something on the road, but it was too late. Whatever it was thudded under her vehicle. Squealing tires pierced her ears. She skidded to a halt in the gravel. Burnt rubber permeated her nostrils.
Looking over, she saw wide-eyed Iris with a death grip on the dash. In the back seat, Frannie looked oblivious to the terror that had just taken place.
A knock on her window drew her attention from the kids. The man who’d scared the living daylights out of her motioned for her to open the window. Concerned, dark brown eyes studied her. Though his eyes looked sincere, how did she know he could be trusted, that he wasn’t some sort of crazy person or something? After all, she did see him hopping around in the middle of the highway. At her hesitation, he motioned for her to lower the window again.
She cracked the window a couple of inches.
“Are you okay?” he asked. The sincerity in his deep voice matched that in his eyes.
“Yes.”
Meredith cut the engine and swung her door open to assess the damage done by whatever it was that she’d run over.
Her shaky legs fought to support her. She sighed at the sight of her flat front tire. “No, no, no. Dammit.” She looked back to see what she’d run over. Several wood planks lay haphazardly over the pavement.
The clean-cut guy she guessed to be in his mid-thirties looked at her. “From the looks of it, you probably just blew the tire. Everything else might be just fine. If you have a spare, I can change the tire for you.”
“I think it’s the least you could do for causing this.”
The man arched a brow and tilted his head to the side. “Excuse me?”
Meredith pointed to the debris on the road. “That. Thanks a lot. That is now going to make me late for my meeting.”
“First of all, that’s not mine. I just stopped to get it off the road. Secondly, I almost got hit by you in my effort to keep you from running over it. So, you can hardly blame me for this. Why weren’t you paying attention? Were you texting or something?”
“No. I wasn’t texting.”
His gaze still bore into her. A tinge of anger laced it. Why wouldn’t it? She’d just blamed him for something he apparently didn’t do.
All anger transitioned from his gaze at the sound of Iris’s soft voice.
The big military-looking guy spun away from her. He stepped toward the girls and placed his large hand on Iris’s shoulder. “Hey, Iris. I’m so sorry about your mom.” His tone held such sincerity Meredith’s heart warmed.
Frannie reached toward him, and he scooped her up. Her smile stretched from ear to ear. “I want to ride Sassy Girl.”
Meredith took a protective step toward her nieces, but judging from their smiles and looks of admiration, she’d no reason to fear this man. But in any case, what in the hell is Sassy Girl?
“She’s just waiting for you to stop by. She misses you.” The man swung his gaze back to Iris. “And which horse do you favor?”
For the first time since she’d picked up the girls, Iris cracked a smile. A little glint shone in her eyes. “Gunner.”
The man chuckled. “Good choice. He’s a fine horse, but I think you’d better work your way up to him.”
Well, this little reunion was great, but Meredith had a meeting to get to. She reached into her car and grabbed her cell phone. “Shit!”
The guy spun to face her. “What?”
“I’m never going to make my meeting now.”
He set Frannie down.
“It won’t take me long to change the tire.” Masculine pride shone in his gaze.
Great, one of those—a manly man. On second thought, who cared what kind of man he was? After he changed her tire, she’d never see him again.
She and her nieces stood off to the side as the muscular man, Coach, as her niece called him, moved diligently—stealthy like she imagined a military guy would. He even looked the part. Broad shoulders, thick thighs, chiseled jawline, buzz cut hair. But he wasn’t much taller than her, maybe six feet or so.
When Coach cranked on the jack handle, his large, powerful shoulder and back muscles rippled beneath his snug-fitting, black T-shirt. His biceps, triceps, and forearms tensed and bulged. He wasn’t built like any man in her immediate circle—that was for sure. Meredith’s breath caught in her throat at the thought of how Coach’s hard muscles would feel against her fingertips.
Jameson was tall and lean but wasn’t built like this guy—all hard, enticing, tempting.
Coach’s back heated from Meredith’s condemning stare. He hadn’t meant to sound like he implied she was incapable of changing her own tire when he’d offered to help, but judging from the look on her face, that was how she had taken it. Whatever, it didn’t matter anyhow. Once she figured out who he was, she’d probably flash him that dagger-shooting gaze like she’d done back in high school—almost twenty years ago.
Why she hated him, he never understood. All he ever did was try to help her and her little sister, Anne. A lump rose in his throat at the thought of what sweet Anne must have endured in her final moments. Then there were the poor girls who stood watching him now. His chest tightened. Their mother was gone. His thoughts shifted to that of his younger sister, Peyton, who was only fifteen when their mother died. It had been extremely hard on her, and she still had the privilege of having a loving dad to help her through. Poor Iris and Frannie—they had neither now.
The impatient tapping of the pointy-toed black shoe, which he caught a glimpse of out of the corner of his eye, snapped him back to reality. He moved quicker.
When he finished changing the tire, he stowed the jack and the flat. “You’re all set. Hopefully, you’ll make it to your meeting on time.”
Meredith looked at her watch. “It’ll be close. I’ll just have to take the girls with me to work.” She swung her gaze to her nieces. “Iris, can you help your sister onto her booster seat? We need to get going.”
Iris nodded.
Meredith stepped toward him. Her dark, inquisitive gaze had him wondering if she pieced it together. “Thank you, Coach.”
Nope. She hadn’t. Coach was a nickname he garnered while in the Army, far after they’d parted ways.
Now that he had time to really look at her, he realized she had hardly changed in nearly twenty years with the exception that her once girly facial features had become more defined—womanly. She kept her hair long and was still thin as a rail with the exception of a couple of slight curves in the right places. Admittedly, he hadn’t recognized her at first, but once he saw Iris and Frannie, he knew exactly who she was.
“You’re welcome.”
“Bye, Coach,” Iris yelled and waved before she climbed into the SUV.
He walked up to her window. “You girls can stop by anytime, and we’ll take a ride.”
Frannie clapped her hands.
Coach quickly rounded the vehicle and pulled the door open for Meredith. She slid in and then narrowed her curious gaze on him. “Where will I be bringing the girls for this ride?”
Coach swallowed hard. “The Crown Ranch.” There, he said it, his last name. She’d surely figure it out now.
“Yes. Drive safe,” he said, hoping to end the conversation before she figured it out. He didn’t want those mesmerizing, dark eyes shooting daggers at him. In fact, the way his heart raced when he looked at her had him hoping she’d look at him with admiration when she figured it out.
He stepped away from her vehicle, and she pulled onto the road. As he stared after her, he pondered what he could have done back in high school to make her so angry with him.
Assuming she would take responsibility for her sister’s children, he wondered if they’d stay in Bourbonville or if she’d move them to Louisville. He sighed. According to Anne, Meredith loved her high-powered job in the city and worked long hours. He guessed a commute wasn’t going to be in the cards for her, but maybe with her nieces’ ties to the community, she’d reconsider. Perhaps there was hope she’d return permanently so he could see her more.
