His Brother's Bride Page 5

  And then, with leaded feet, she headed back upstairs, feeling guilty for taking from Scott, even in the smallest measure, the comfort she used to get from Paul.

  She’d hoped she was ready to move on, but was beginning to fear she’d end up just like William Byrd—alone for the rest of her life.

  In love with a memory.

  * * *

  HALF AN HOUR LATER, Keegan knocked on Laurel’s door a second time and she headed back downstairs to the office. Expecting to hear Scott’s voice telling her he’d thought of something else, Laurel couldn’t figure out for a second who was the owner of the male voice on the other end of the line.

  “Laurel?” the man asked again. His voice was warm. Familiar. Concerned. “I just got your message. Are you okay?”

  Shane. Her heart dropped. Right along with her shoulders and her spirits. Other than leaving a brief message on Shane’s voice mail telling him she wouldn’t be returning as soon as she’d expected, she hadn’t given a thought to the gorgeous, rich and available newscaster back in New York.

  “I’m fine,” she told him, thinking the words were partially true. She hadn’t fallen apart. In some ways she was handling her return to Cooper’s Corner much better than she’d expected.

  What she hadn’t expected was to have him call her here. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. At least not yet.

  “I got your message.”

  “Oh. Good.” Shouldn’t she be telling him about the thoughts and feelings that had been plaguing her so much earlier in the evening? Shouldn’t she tell him about meeting the Coopers again—and Scott? Shane knew that’s why she’d come back to Cooper’s Corner—to try to resolve the past and move forward into the future, a future he wanted to share with her.

  If this was the man she was going to consider developing an exclusive relationship with—the first man she’d even considered dating since Paul’s death—why couldn’t she at least talk to him about the wars raging inside her?

  “I was worried,” he said.

  “No need.” Laurel had always been private, keeping to herself—until she’d met Paul. And then, only with him and his family had she felt safe enough to open up a little bit.

  “You’re finding the stay restful?”

  “I’m actually working on a possible story.” Come to think of it, she realized, even after a three-and-a-half year separation, she’d given Scott more this afternoon than she was able to give Shane now.

  Laurel’s head started to ache. Of course, talking to Scott was natural, considering the history they shared. The grief they shared.

  “What story?” Shane asked. If he’d sounded resentful—or jealous—Laurel wouldn’t have had such a hard time. Instead he sounded concerned, like the friend he’d grown to be these past months, and that made her feel even guiltier for her inability to share herself with him.

  “One of the guests—a man in his early sixties—disappeared from Twin Oaks on Saturday. As a favor to the owners here, a state policeman is conducting an unofficial investigation on his own time. He’s letting me join him.”

  “Any leads?”

  “Nothing conclusive, yet,” she told him.

  He asked a couple more questions, all of which she answered generally.

  “So...how’d the rest of the trip go?”

  She knew exactly what he was asking. What he was waiting to hear. “Fine.” At that moment, Laurel truly hated herself. What was it with her? Was she buried so deeply inside herself she could no longer open up even when she wanted to?

  “Have you seen anyone you knew?”

  Briefly Laurel told him about the elder Coopers. And because she felt so bad knowing that she wasn’t going to tell him about Scott—and even worse because she didn’t understand why—she went on to tell him about Bonnie, too, and her plumbing career.

  As she talked—and made Shane laugh—Laurel relaxed a bit, but only enough to get through the rest of the conversation. Before hanging up, she promised Shane that she’d call him when she got back to New York.

  And then she went upstairs to bed. She knew she would have trouble sleeping, so she poured herself a glass of wine from the bottle she’d brought with her.

  Although she didn’t drink a lot, there’d been many nights after the accident when a glass of wine was the only thing that helped her ease up enough to get some sleep.

  But tonight the wine didn’t do the trick, and she lay awake, staring out at the impenetrable darkness of the country night, and wondering if she was ever going to know who she was or where she was going.

  * * *

  “YOU’RE GOING TO LOVE my dad’s griddle cakes,” Keegan told Scott the next morning at the huge mahogany table in the dining room. Though the chintz-covered chairs were simple cottage-style, they were surprisingly comfortable.

  “I’ve heard a lot about them,” Scott said, smiling at the solidly built boy who’d waited until Scott sat down and then plopped into the seat next to him.

  Scott had just come in from filling Clint and Maureen in on the little bit of progress they’d made on Byrd’s case. He’d been in touch with Frank Quigg, Maureen’s former boss at the NYPD. Apparently Owen Nevil was on a hiking expedition and could not be reached.

  The brother-and-sister team were getting ready to welcome the next batch of guests to Twin Oaks. Three families were due to arrive that afternoon and were staying for a couple of days.

  “Hi!”

  “Are you the...”

  “...policeman we seed sometimes?”

  Scott blinked, and turned to see the two identical curly-headed girls who’d just tromped in to stand beside the table and stare up at him. He’d seen the twins around town a time or two, but never up close.

  “That one’s Robin and that’s Randi,” Keegan informed him.

  “Girls, come get in your seats,” Maureen said, having entered the room right behind them.

  “Yes,” Scott said as the pair immediately left his side to climb into a couple of booster seats across the table from him. “I am a policeman.”

  “Did you know Mommy?” one of the little girls asked. Like her sister, she was wearing a pink T-shirt that read I’m An Angel across the front.

  Scott believed the pronouncement.

  “In New York?” the other little girl asked.

  “No.” Scott shook his head just as Maureen reminded the girls that they weren’t supposed to talk about Mommy’s job in New York.

  “He’s from Cooper’s Corner, dummies,” Keegan added, glancing apologetically at Scott.

  Scott’s heart went out to the boy. He was at that tough age where he was too old to be a kid, too young to be a man, and aware of both.

  Laurel came in and sat down next to Maureen and her girls rather than Scott. She wasn’t meeting his eyes that morning. He wondered if she’d changed her mind about the investigation and was planning to head back to New York.

  And did not approve—at all—of how much he hoped that wasn’t the case.

  Clint joined them at the table, and Scott soon found that everything he’d heard about Clint’s griddle cakes was true. He was afforded the opportunity to enjoy them without interruption as the twins kept up a steady dialogue. Amused himself, Scott noticed how entranced Laurel seemed to be with the pair.

  “Mommy’s goin’ to let us run in the hose!” announced Robin.

  “Just as soon as breakfast is done!” chimed in Randi.

  Laurel’s eyes danced as she gazed from one twin to the next. “And who’s going to count to ten before you start?” she asked, as though she was aware of their routine.

  “We are!” both girls shouted.

  “But I betcha can’t count to twenty,” she challenged, taking a bite of melon. The rest of them didn’t need to be in the room for all the attention she wa
s paying them.

  “Yes we can!” the girls cried. “One, two, three, four...” They made it all the way to twenty.

  Their mother and uncle grinned with pride from either end of the table.

  “You gotta admit, they are pretty smart,” Keegan leaned over to whisper. He’d filled his plate with everything from the buffet—his father’s griddle cakes, sausage, bacon, eggs, a croissant and hash browns.

  “That they are,” Scott whispered back.

  “Girls, eat your eggs,” Maureen said. She was apparently just having an English muffin for breakfast.

  The girls each took a bite, though it took one of them—Scott had lost track of who was who—a few tries to get the scrambled eggs to her mouth. They kept falling off her spoon. He almost laughed out loud when she finally just picked up the glob of eggs with her fingers and shoved it in.

  “We can count to forty, too!” one of the girls told Laurel.

  “Show me.”

  Laurel was great with the twins, Scott realized. And had she married his brother on the day intended, she would very probably be teaching her own son or daughter to count rather than coaxing numbers out of virtual strangers.

  The thought saddened him enough to curb his appetite.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “YOU LOOK NICE TODAY.”

  “Thanks.” Climbing into Scott’s Blazer as he held the door for her, Laurel felt a rush of purely feminine pleasure. There was absolutely nothing spectacular about the white stretch denim slacks she was wearing, or the short-sleeved cotton top, but he made her feel as though there was.

  On vacation now, he was out of uniform and dressed in gray slacks and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She’d never before been moved by a man with rolled up sleeves. It must be his resemblance to Paul that was affecting her now.

  “I had a friend of mine from crisis training make a visit to William’s neighborhood in Connecticut,” he told her.

  Her heart leapt. “And?”

  “Nothing. Apparently he comes and goes a lot, so being away for an extended time is nothing out of the ordinary.”

  Laurel had a feeling she’d better prepare herself for a slew of disappointments over the next day or two.

  As previously arranged, they met Bonnie Cooper at her home—a former cottage she owned in town.

  With her maple-brown eyes and milk-chocolate hair, Bonnie was just as Laurel remembered her. A little taller, maybe, but still wearing her infectious smile and offering the small-town welcome that seemed to be part of everyone who’d ever lived in Cooper’s Corner.

  “It’s so good to see you!” Bonnie said, giving Laurel a strong hug.

  “You, too,” Laurel replied, grinning for a moment in spite of the serious reason for their visit. Dressed in denim overalls and a ribbed T-shirt, Bonnie looked young and cute.

  Fun-loving. Just as Laurel remembered her.

  She offered them a cup of coffee and the three of them settled at the kitchen table.

  She didn’t have much information for them in the Byrd case.

  “He wasn’t at the B and B when I was there on Saturday afternoon,” she said. “I was the only one in the house—everyone else was at the barbecue.”

  “You’re sure his car wasn’t in the drive?” Scott asked, his notebook out.

  “Positive,” she said. “I pulled my truck all the way around back. I didn’t want anyone to know where I was and ask me to do any more jobs that were going to keep me from getting to the barbecue—and there were no other cars back there.” She frowned. “Why?”

  “He’s missing,” Laurel gently told the other woman.

  Bonnie instantly stilled, lowering the half-raised cup she held back to its saucer. “Missing?” she repeated.

  Scott and Laurel nodded.

  “He hasn’t been seen since Saturday morning,” Scott said.

  “That’s two days ago!”

  A twinge of fear shot through Laurel, a reaction to the concern she read in the other woman’s expressive eyes.

  They were going to find William Byrd. Alive. She was certain of it.

  But she would feel a whole lot better if she knew the older man hadn’t been the victim of foul play.

  If someone had hurt him...

  Since there was nothing more Bonnie could tell them, Scott directed the conversation back to Bonnie’s specialty—restoration plumbing. She was the best source in the area for authentic hardware and vintage fixtures.

  “How’d you get into plumbing?” Laurel asked Bonnie as the three walked out a few minutes later. “All you ever talked about was teaching at Theodore Cooper Elementary.”

  Bonnie chuckled. “I had a bit of an idealized vision of being a teacher. I mean, look at Cooper Elementary—it’s so picturesque it could be on a postcard. I always imagined wearing horn-rimmed glasses and plaid outfits, and having dozens of little darlings bringing me apples.”

  “So what happened?”

  “Teaching my first class.”

  Laurel laughed out loud at the look of chagrin on Bonnie’s face.

  “Too hot for you to handle, eh, Bonnie?” Scott asked with a grin.

  “Bite me, Hunter.”

  Laurel envied the easy grin the two of them shared, and their relaxed way with each other, almost as though they were brother and sister.

  That’s what living in a small town could do, she remembered. Give you the illusion that you really did have a family to call your own.

  “So you chose plumbing because it was the furthest thing from teaching?” Laurel asked, charmed as always, by the younger woman. Bonnie liked plain food, plain talk and country music. Laurel had expected her to be married with babies by now, not traipsing off in overalls fixing people’s toilets.

  “No,” Bonnie chuckled. “During high school I learned to do simple installations while helping Dad out at the store. It was a good way to earn some extra money. And it didn’t take me long to figure out that the more I knew, the more money I made. I registered as an apprentice when I went to college and worked my way through a bachelor’s degree.”

  “She’s damn good,” Scott told Laurel. “Makes quite a name for herself helping the city people who move to the area and want to build period homes.”

  “I’m actually still working to be a journeyman,” Bonnie admitted. “But I think I’ve found my niche with the restoration stuff. Nothing like finding just the right ball cock.”

  “What?” Laurel choked.

  “You know, ball...cock. Think about it.” Scott sent her a grin he shouldn’t be sending. One that made Laurel’s cheeks burn and her heart beat faster.

  He’s not Paul, she reminded herself. And then turned cold.

  Were loneliness and grief driving her to transfer her love for Paul to his younger brother? God, she hoped not. Really hoped not.

  She’d guard against it with her life.

  “Shut up, Hunter,” Bonnie said. And after sending Scott a disgusted look, she turned to Laurel. “A ball cock’s an automatic valve—its opening and closing are controlled by the float at the end of the flush lever on toilets,” Bonnie explained.

  Scott had known that. He’d been teasing her. Like in the old days.

  Laurel suddenly felt like crying.

  * * *

  “DID YOU EVER GO OUT with Bonnie Cooper?”

  Scott didn’t like the pleasure Laurel’s question brought him—as though she actually cared about whom he did and didn’t date.

  “No.”

  They’d left the younger woman a couple of hours before and had spent the rest of the morning showing Byrd’s picture around town, to no avail. Not that Scott was surprised. Most everyone in Cooper’s Corner had been at the barbecue on Saturday.

  “You dated a lot in
high school, though,” Laurel said. She was looking out her window. He couldn’t see her expression.

  He had no reason to take hope that she was at all interested in his love life. Laurel was in love with his dead brother. There was no future for her with Scott, because Paul’s memory still lived on in her heart, and Paul’s death weighed heavily on his.

  “I don’t think I dated any more than anyone else,” Scott replied eventually.

  “Yeah,” Laurel said, her voice taking on that half condescending, half teasing tone that shot straight to his groin. “If I went out with even a quarter as many guys as you did girls, I’d have been considered a sleaze. And would have failed school, too.”

  “You’re hardly a qualified judge of such things,” Scott told her. “You only dated one guy your whole life.”

  He could have bitten off his tongue for bringing Paul into the conversation. And yet, maybe what he’d done was exactly right.

  Paul was going to keep him safe. From her. From himself.

  “In high school, I guess you’re right,” Laurel said slowly.

  “You dated other guys in college? I know you went to different schools, but I thought you and Paul were exclusive even then.”

  “We were.” Her voice sounded far away. “But Paul’s been gone for three and a half years.”

  Scott’s blood ran cold. “Are you seeing someone?” The idea had never occurred to him, though it should have.

  Of course Laurel would be dating. She was young. Beautiful. She had her whole life ahead of her. A husband. Kids.

  “No,” she said.

  He knew he was in trouble when that single word brought a flood of relief. He had to find Byrd and get this woman out of his life once and for all before he did something he’d regret for the rest of his life.

  Like make a move on his dead brother’s fiancée.

  “Not at all?” He’d told himself not to ask.

  “No.”

  She’d loved Paul that much.

  “You ever going to?”

  “I hope so.” She didn’t sound sure.

  Driving back up to Twin Oaks for afternoon tea and to make some calls, Scott forced himself to face facts.