Forever Wife And Mother

She wouldn’t go till later, though; she was bushed. Closing her eyes, she leaned back in the cushioned walnut rocking chair and let her thoughts roam to her arrival at Holly Cottage that morning.

She’d been relieved to find her overnight bag on the porch where she’d abandoned it, but her relief had soon turned to frustration when she’d gone into the cottage and found the mess wrought by the panic-stricken bird.

It had taken her all morning to clean up. The only godsend had been that the caretaker had set the wood stove, so all she’d had to do was put a match to it. By the time she’d finished her scrubbing and mopping and was ready for lunch, the kitchen had been warm as pie.

Now, after a second cup of milky tea, she was not only bushed, she was sleepy. She’d doze for half an hour, she decided with a yawn, then she’d drive to the village and get her investigation under way.

“Thanks, Janet.” Gabe took his mail from the postmistress and started to turn away. “See you tomorrow.”

“Hang on, Angel.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. As a child, everyone had called him by his given name, Gabriel, but everyone called him Gabe now…except for Janet Black, who still referred to him by the nickname she’d given him when he was a toddler. And the words “Hang on, Angel!” usually indicated that she had a choice piece of gossip to pass on. “I’m in a bit of a rush today, Janet—”

“You’ll want to hear this.” The woman planted her sharp elbows on the counter and leaned forward confidentially. “We have a stranger in our midst!”

“The first of many, Janet. The tourist season’s getting under way and—”

“This one—” Janet threw a furtive glance toward the farthest aisle “—has been asking questions.”

Casually, Gabe looked around but could see no one. “About what?”

“About Malcolm Lockhart.”

Gabe turned slowly to the postmistress. “What kind of questions?”

The postmistress’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “I knew that’d get your attention.” Keeping her voice low, she said, “She asked how long I’d lived in the valley. And I thought she was just being chatty so I told her. ‘Born and brought up here,’ said I. ‘And been postmistress for the past thirty years.’ ‘Oh,’ sez she, ‘I guess you’ll know just about everybody in the area then.”’

“And you said…”

“And I said, ‘Better than most folks. You can tell a lot about people by the mail they get!’ She laughed at that, and then she said, all airy-fairy-like, ‘Can you tell me anything about a man called Malcolm Lockhart—I believe he used to live at Holly Cottage, on the river?’ And the minute she said Malcolm Lockhart, my ears went on red alert. Well, Angel, we all know that story…and the first thing I think of is, is she a reporter? Has she come to poke around and do a write-up? After all, it’s coming up to thirty years since the scandal and—”

“What else—” Gabe’s voice was harsh “—did she ask?”

“That was it. As soon as I figured she was snooping, I closed up tighter than a bank on Sunday!” The postmistress sucked in a sharp breath. “There she is now!” She nodded urgently toward the front checkout. “She’s just leaving. Do you know her, Angel? You ever seen her before?”

Gabe followed her gaze…and felt his chest tighten. Oh, yes, he knew her. He knew her, all right. She had spent last night in one of his beds.

But what was Caprice Kincaid doing here? And why was she asking questions about Malcolm Lockhart?

“Gotta go, Janet.” His steps were already taking him from the postal counter. He strode up the aisle and reached the checkout just as the exit doors swung shut behind his quarry.

Pausing impatiently, he watched through the plate glass doors till she got into her car. As soon as she drove out of the car park he made for his Range Rover.

And he followed her, at a distance, as she took the river road north—the route he took to go to the lodge.

She drove steadily, and in less than ten minutes he could see the Ryland’s Resort sign. When he noticed her left turn signal blink, irritation coursed through him. Did the woman think he would let her stay at the lodge again tonight? No way! But even as he glowered at the Honda, it sailed past the entrance…

And turned, a few seconds later, onto the track that led through the forest to the old Lockhart place.

After dinner that evening, Will stood on the crest of the hill, staring with delight at the smoke puffing from Holly Cottage.

“Fang!” She kneeled down to hug him. “The first summer lady’s here!” She snuggled her cheek against his velvety ear. “But we can’t go visit her till Dad goes away, and that won’t be for at least two more weeks—”

“Hey!”

Will almost jumped out of her skin when her father’s voice came from behind her. Shooting upright, she whirled. “Dad! I thought you were watching the six o’clock news!”

He was staring at the puffs of gray smoke. “I have to go down there.”

“But Lockhart land’s off-limits!”

“It is off-limits…but this is just a one-shot deal. That lady who stayed over last night—”

“Mrs. Kincaid?”

He nodded. “I believe she may be staying at Holly Cottage, and I need to talk to her.”

Willow’s eyes widened. “She’s one of the summer ladies?”

“Seems that way.”

“Why do you need to talk to her?”

“I told her I didn’t want her to pay for her room, but she left money anyway, and I want to return it because—”

“Because if she’s one of the Lockhart summer ladies, she’s going to need it. They’re usually poor, aren’t they?” Even as she spoke, Will’s mind was racing. If her dad went down there and Mrs. Kincaid invited him in, he might see the drawings on the fridge. Oh, cripes, she was going to be in the biggest trouble she’d ever been in her life!

“Dad,” she said in a rush, “if you give me the money, I’ll run down and give it to Mrs. Kincaid.”

“We’ll both go…but we won’t take Fang. I wouldn’t want him to get confused—he knows it’s a rule that he can’t go beyond the fence, and it wouldn’t be fair to allow it tonight and then change the rule back again tomorrow.”

“Oh, Dad, you and your rules!” But Will wasn’t even thinking about his rules—or how confused Fang must be already, because she’d taken him beyond the fence more times than she could count! All she could think about was what might happen if her dad got inside Holly Cottage.

Caprice was in the kitchen tidying up after dinner when someone hammered loudly on the back door.

Startled, she paused, a dish towel in her hand. Who could it be? Setting down the towel, she peeked out the window above the sink and saw Gabe Ryland and his daughter standing on the step. What on earth did they want?

She unlocked the door and opened it. Will was nervously curling a finger around a strand of her yellow hair; her father’s rugged face was set in a dark frown.

“Hi,” Caprice greeted them warily. “How can I help you?”

“You can help me—” Gabe thrust a narrow roll of bills at her “—by taking this back. I told you I don’t want your money—”

“And,” Will added, “you prob’ly can use it. The Lockhart summer ladies gen’r’lly find it hard to make ends meet.”

Ah. They thought she was here courtesy of Break Away.

“How did you track me down?” she asked.