Secretly Married

She snatched up the envelope and headed blindly away from the curious eyes that seemed to be burning into her from all sides. But escape was blocked by the dancers one way and the whitewashed stucco building on the other. She trembled, never feeling more like screaming in her entire life.

Wouldn’t that be a tidy item to add to her record? “After installing patient in residential program, subject became hysterical when former spouse referred to her as his wife….”

“Yo, Doc V. You didn’t tell me Mr. Cop-man was gonna be here.”

She marshaled her scrambled thoughts. Smoothed back her hair again and looked up at Alonso, who’d come down from his slouch to stand in front of her. He’d grown a foot in the past year. At only fifteen, he easily topped six feet, a good six inches taller than she. He was more gangly than broad, but she knew time would eventually fill in the spare gaps and he’d cut an impressive figure. “You being at Castillo House has nothing to do with Sam.”

Alonso’s lip curled. “Right.”

Her day really had been too long. “Think about it.” Her tone was short enough that Alonso kept his next smart-aleck remark from emerging.

“Is he a cop here, too?” He focused on shoving up the long sleeves of his oversize T-shirt.

“He’s the sheriff.”

“Yeah, well he better not be hauling me off to jail, or—”

“Or?” Delaney looked sternly up into his young face. Alonso Petrofski was a combination of beauty from the mocha skin to the green eyes he’d inherited from his Jamaican mother and Russian father. In most respects, he was brilliant. And in most respects, troubled, neglected and full of anger and opinions. She’d started out as his court-appointed therapist. Now, a very rocky four years later, she’d like to think she was his friend.

Some days that was easier to believe than others.

“You’re not going to jail, Alonso. Not unless you do something illegal here. And if you do that in the next two months, your probation will be revoked and you’ll finish out your full sentence in jail back in New York. Then all the good work you’ve done the past year will be for nothing.”

“Not if you can’t find me,” he said.

“Turnabout is an island, Alonso. You won’t be going anywhere that we don’t know about.” Logan Drake, the man responsible for the running of Castillo House, smiled coolly, seeming to appear at their sides out of nowhere.

Alonso had already told Delaney he figured Logan was a hard-ass. Given what Delaney knew about Logan’s former profession, she figured the assessment was fairly accurate.

“He’s not exaggerating.” A very pregnant girl stood beside Logan, addressing Alonso. “It’s Drake’s way or the highway. But believe me. He’s easier than the sheriff. I’ve been here for three months, so I oughta know.” She shot a rueful glance up at Logan, who softened a little and tugged the end of her long red braid.

“This is Caitlin Reed,” Logan introduced. “She’ll show you what chores you’re assigned to tonight.”

“Man, I just got here.”

Delaney remained mum. This was Logan and Annie’s center. The sooner Alonso became acclimated to his new home, the better.

Logan merely lifted one broad shoulder, his blue gaze again impassive. “Everybody here works, Alonso. You want to stay, you’re welcome. But you’re gonna work the same as the rest.”

The boy stared Logan down for a long, taut minute. Alonso drew up every centimeter of height he possessed, as if it would give him some advantage against the man with whom he stood eye to eye. It had no effect on Logan. He merely waited. Solid. Strong. Sure. Then Alonso made an impatient sound, swore—under his breath, because swearing was against the rules of the house—and headed back up the shallow steps and inside the massive doorway. Delaney watched him go. Saw the way he curtailed his long-legged stride to accommodate Caitlin’s shorter, somewhat waddling one.

Along with relief was a sense of loss. Alonso had become a large part of her life. Right or wrong, he was more than a patient to her. But she couldn’t handle him alone, and something had to be done. He was too young to be left to his own devices. He needed a home.

Hopefully, Castillo House would provide what she couldn’t.

She glanced up at Logan. He hadn’t said a word about Sam’s outrageous announcement after kissing her, and she was grateful. “I know you don’t really have room for him, yet, with your renovations still underway. But I appreciate it. He really needed to get away from his usual crowd.”

“Long as your boy toes the line, we’ll get along fine,” Logan said. Then his hard face softened, making him look immeasurably younger, when a slender woman with a mass of blond curls stopped next to him, sliding her arm through his. Annie Drake.

“Alonso will be fine.” Annie smiled far more easily than did her husband. “And we do appreciate the—”

Delaney waved away the thanks before Annie could finish. She didn’t want to advertise the donation she’d arranged for Castillo House. “We can keep that between us.” What her mother had donated would go a little way toward the renovations the big old house still required. A little way toward making the physical space necessary for another person. Like Alonso. Which made having to approach her mother for funds worth it. Just because Delaney had loathed having to do so, her mother’s donation had been just one more in a long line of charitable causes she thoughtlessly supported, meaning nothing more nor less than if Delaney had been a stranger.

“Secrets have a way of coming out, Delaney. Sometimes it’s better all around to put everything out on the table.”

Delaney didn’t know if that was a reference to her and Sam’s history, or not. But there was nothing in Annie’s expression that Delaney could take exception to.

She was just feeling defensive.

Because of Sam.

“Um, you’re…Delaney. Right?”

A young woman had approached. Why not? For all the attention Sam had thrown her way, she might have been the circus come to town. “Yes.”

“I’m Janie Vega.”

Something indefinable curled through Delaney. So she’d meet some of Sam’s family after all. “You’re Sam’s sister.” Timid, she thought, as she looked for some resemblance between the girl and Sam. They had the same dark eyes, but that seemed to be all. “He told me about you.”

“I wish we could say the same about you.”

Maybe not so timid, after all, Delaney thought, eyeing Janie’s crossed arms. Logan and Annie murmured excuses and moved off with no small amount of haste. “I’m sorry,” she told Janie.

“Why? Sam’s the one who’s been keeping his mouth shut all this time.” Her voice was tart. “Ironic, considering how he feels about deception.”

Could this get any worse? Sam should have been the one to soothe his sister’s hurt feelings. “Well, really, Sam and I, we weren’t together very long. And it was a few years ago.”

“But,” Janie’s expression faltered a little, “he said you are his wife.”

“Was,” Delaney assured gently.

“You’re more forgiving than I am if you think that’s an adequate excuse for his behavior.”

There was nothing suitable or otherwise that Delaney could say. Janie seemed to realize it. “Where are you staying tonight?” she asked.

The trip to Turnabout had taken longer than Delaney expected. Their flight from New York had been late arriving in San Diego, which meant they’d missed the regular ferry that ran twice a day. She’d had to hire a charter. Which was definitely a glorified term for the rough-riding bucket that had carried her and Alonso from the mainland to the tiny island of Turnabout.

She’d strongly entertained the idea of waiting until morning before finishing the journey. But her desire to get it over with had overridden her common sense. It would’ve been smarter to wait. Then she’d have been assured of a way off the island.

Now, she had a hotel room all reserved in San Diego that was going begging. “I hadn’t planned to stay on Turnabout,” she admitted. She didn’t enjoy being caught unprepared. “Is there a hotel here?”

“Maisy Fielding has an inn. Called Maisy’s Place. She has several guest cottages, too. But she’s full up. I help out there when she’s particularly busy.” Janie lifted an arm, encompassing the crowd. “A lot of people came over to celebrate the first anniversary of Castillo House. But Sam has an extra room,” Janie continued. “Etta does, too, but my father is using it now that he’s home again.”

“Etta?”

“Our grandmother. Henrietta Vega.”

“Right.” Surreal, indeed. Delaney looked around at the partyers. She was aware of Janie watching her closely.