Turnagain Love (Sisters Of Spirit #1) - Plot & Excerpts
Turnagain Love (Sisters of Spirit #1) “Fix it anyway!” he demanded.Perhaps it was just as well she was leaving. If he couldn’t even stand her hair being down, she must be as bothersome to him as a persistent mosquito!It was quite a chore to do. She’d always been proud of her hair, but if it was going to bother people, especially him— “Maybe I ought to cut it off,” she sighed, vocalizing her thoughts. “I’ve been think—”“Cut it? No! Why do you want to cut it?” he exclaimed, his eyes clearly astonished at the idea that she would consider such a thing.Vexed, she glared at him. Normally he was so logical. “It’s...such a bother...and you don’t like it—”“I said nothing about whether I liked it or not.” “But, but you said—” She was bewildered and bit her lips. “You’re reading me wrong. It’s beautiful hair.” “But you want me to braid it up?” “Yes.” He nodded sharply. “For Clyde.” Her bewilderment increased. “What does he have to do with my hair?” “I want...I just...Oh, forget it,” he grumbled and stared off into space, eyes fixed on a point beyond the small stovetop.Maybe he liked long hair, but only in braids—and didn’t want his friend to see it down. “If you really want me to braid it, I will.” She didn’t mind, and if it kept him from having a heart attack, she would do it.“Good.”Men! She’d never understand them. She took out her long comb and began to attack her hair. He watched, growing more agitated as she carelessly parted it.“Here, let me,” he said. The request was so unexpected that Jennel wondered if she had heard right.“I can do it,” she protested, not in the mood to grant any favors whatsoever to him, although her shoulders ached terribly when she lifted her arms.“I know, but let me anyway.” He didn’t plead with her, just stated it in such a way that it sounded like it was something he really wanted to do.It would be nice if he wanted to braid it because he liked doing it, although it probably irritated him so much while it was down, he was impatient to get it back up.She shrugged, then moved to sit on the floor with her back to him as he gently combed through the long black tresses, not quite dry yet.Closing her eyes with a smile, she soaked up the stroking sensations, as contented as Brutus whenever someone patted his silky head.She always loved having her hair worked on and this was pure bliss, sending shivers coursing merrily, one after another, down her spine. His strong fingers carefully yet firmly separated the strands before braiding them together into the long coil.“Do they still have witches in Boston?” he asked suddenly. “Why, n—” It was a question that one couldn’t answer with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ and she barely caught herself before doing so. “They never did have.”He laughed, a low throaty chuckle of pleasure that sent an answering echo tingling through her. “I bet—”She never did learn what it was he bet because the radio crackled, coming to life with Zack’s name. He handed her the end of the braid, at the same time meeting her eyes with the quiet, contented look of someone who has discovered some rich truth. She hesitated, wondering what it meant, before going to get the mike. Perhaps Zack had come to some decision— like getting rid of her for good.There seemed to be nothing she could do about it.Chapter NineClyde was calling with good news and bad. He couldn’t come, but he had contacted a doctor on Stuart Island who was already on his way and would be there in a few minutes.“Thanks,” Zack replied cordially. “You’ll still need to get Jennel. Be here first thing in the morning.”“That I will...as soon as I get my radar running again. Tell Jennel, ‘Happy fish- ing.’ ”“Fishing?” Zack queried as he handed her the microphone to put back among the array of instruments.“He keeps telling me I should do some fishing while I’m here. I guess everyone fishes when they get in this area.”This time there was no lift in her spirits. She could stay another night, but a sad, heavy heart suppressed her spirit. Zack didn’t want her.The chance to finish her elevations of the dining area and redo the one destroyed when the tree fell, gave her no joy.She carelessly pinned the braid in place and listened, with some irritation, to Zack’s off-tune whistle. At least he sounded happy.The doctor arrived shortly thereafter, and Jennel helped him tie up his boat. He was a lean, good-natured man who cruised the islands whenever he could, maintaining a vacation cabin as a base of operation.He sprayed some local anesthetic onto the worst gash, sewed it up with a deft hand, and bandaged Zack’s knee, talking all the time. It made him happy to see this little island being fixed up and made habitable once again.At Zack’s insistence, he checked Jennel’s back and shoulders, saying she appeared only to be deeply bruised. His visit was short but thorough, and Zack paid him, for them both, before he left.While Zack sharpened the saw, Jennel got her duffel bag and took it with her up to the old house when she went to finish washing the dishes. It took up a lot of room in the boat. Until she heard from the Van Chattans, she wasn’t going to start stripping linoleum or do anything of that nature, so she might as well leave the bag in the house. It would also be nice not to have to run down to the boat for a change of clothes whenever she took a shower.It was stuffy inside the large kitchen, so she opened a window near the sink. The screen was torn, but at this time of year there were few flying insects.Zack must think she was a Jonah, bringing him bad luck, hence his crack about witches in Boston. It wasn’t her fault that things kept going wrong.Laughing softly to herself, she ran hot water into the pan. Zack couldn’t get rid of her. How frustrated he must be.What would he do if he ever found out she had asked Clyde to stay away? Several possibilities came to mind—none pleasant— and she shrugged them off as she finished drying the pans. Leaving the kitchen as neat as possible, she picked up her case containing her color boards and took them back with her. Then she sat on the deck in the last of the light and worked on the damaged elevations, redoing the one destroyed. To make a copy was not too much effort, since the decisions had all been made.Zack finished and came to sit beside her, seemingly content to watch quietly as she worked, head bent, the long braid now draped down her back. It was a particularly harmonious time of day, with the sun setting red upon the water and the sky purple and pink and—right above where the sun vanished—a clear, pure, luminescent robin’s egg blue, a color impossible to duplicate with paint.It would be wonderful if they could always share this peace, Jennel thought, marveling at the clarity of the colors in the fragrant air. She had somehow acquired an extra sensitive awareness of sight and sound and smell. Even her skin tingled— on the side where he was sitting.Zack’s presence effectively sidetracked her train of thought, making her prone to shaky lines and mismatched colors. It was a new experience, and she took it as an indicator of the power of his attraction. At least she was past the age of being tongue- tied when a good-looking male came her way, but the degree of awareness was a strong warning signal as to where her emotions were headed.And more and more she wanted to release those emotions and follow them. Follow them into those strong arms of his, feel the power of his lips against hers. In spite of the mixed signals she was receiving from him, Jennel felt that Zack was attracted to her...when she stayed out of trouble, and when she wasn’t messing up his things.To fall in love with him could be so easy, so unwise. If she dropped the restraint she had practiced so far, Zack would take that as a sign of surrender. He would accept her love for a night or two, but still send her away when Clyde came. Of that, she was sure.If only Zack wasn’t so authoritative; if only she felt like she could talk to him— tell him her problems. She wanted his sympathy, not his advice or criticism. She knew how her father reacted to the problems her mother shared with him. A long lecture first on what she should have done, then advice on how to take care of it, most of what her mother already knew. And after all that, he usually took care of the problem himself.Just like Zack had done when the tree fell. Her emotions weren’t up to his rejection. If he fell in love with her, maybe he wouldn’t want to send her away, but she couldn’t take that chance. Jennel didn’t want a fleeting affair with any man, even Zack.With the sun gone, a full moon appeared to light the scene. From the boat they could watch both raccoons and rabbits coming down to the water with their families. The sea birds fished while the shore birds scavenged near the beach. The night was wonderfully peaceful.It was a time of heightened activity among the wild things, and Jennel put her brush aside to watch and listen to their plaintive calls. She was finished with her work. It had not been a particularly difficult view to re-create.“Those are very good,” Zack commented as he relaxed near her, making Jennel smile proudly. “But why do you draw in some of the furniture in such detail, while others are mere suggestions?”Oh, oh...! She heard another warning signal ringing loudly in her mind, knowing Zack was about to learn something else he didn’t know.“Well?” he prompted, unsuspecting.Her voice was soft, hesitant, as she tried to soften the impact. “Because...well, because those are the pieces she already has.”“What?” His body shot out of its relaxed pose. It was as good a double take as she’d ever seen. “John didn’t mention bringing any furniture. In fact, he asked me to furnish the house totally. Appliances, furniture, everything. Are you sure?”“Yes. I’m sorry, but I’m very sure. Some she had already and others we bought before I left New York.”He looked skyward in a pained appeal for strength. “You’re sorry? How many pieces?”“Why...twenty-five, I think.” And just so he knew the worse—he might as well hear it all at once—Jennel continued matter-of-factly. “It cost quite a lot to ship them out here.”“You already shipped them?” He stood up abruptly, then plopped down again.“Yes.”He shook his head. “Why ship them out to a derelict house?”“I didn’t know that.” Incensed, she raised her voice, frightening a sea gull that had settled on the boat’s rail. The matter had effectively destroyed their fragile peace. “When I—”“You should’ve made it a point to know!” he retorted, throwing up his hands in frustration. “Now we’re going to have to find some place to store them or send them back—”“Will you listen!” she interrupted rudely. She could do that, too. He wasn’t the only one inconvenienced by the Van Chattans. If she went any more into the hole, she might as well pull the top in over her.Zack pressed his lips tightly shut. As long as she had him listening—however reluctantly—he was going to hear her side of things. It was time he knew.Biting her words off sharply, her finger stressing each point, Jennel laid it out for him. “Mrs. Van Chattan paid for the shipping. She said the place was habitable; that it had been lived in during the past year.”“Really?”“Yes. She made no mention at all of the work you’re planning. She gave me the feeling her husband was letting her choose the things for the house. We decided I could store things out here as reasonably as I could in New York, if I had to. All I could go on was what she told me, so don’t blame me so much!”Surprisingly her tirade calmed him down completely, and he passed a hand through his dark brown hair as if seeking enlightenment. “Huh!” he snorted, disgustedly.In response to his calmness, Jennel felt the fiery anger lift from her temper and her voice dropped an octave as she observed, “She rarely mentioned him. This whole thing is as much a shock, and as much a mystery to me as it is to you. Don’t think you’re the only one wondering what’s going on. Could be he’s planning to surprise her.”He gave her an upward, speculating glance. “Maybe so.”“Or,” she added, as the grim possibility hit her, “maybe he’s planning a divorce, and she doesn’t know anything about it. What if he intends to live in this house without her?”Zack considered the possibility and found it likely. “Yes. I’ve known stranger things to happen. It isn’t like John, but it would account for his not taking her tastes into consideration when he told me what he wanted.”“Hopefully, he’s just thoughtless.”“Could be. I’m going to find out, that’s for sure! This is the craziest mix-up I’ve ever encountered.” He sounded angry, but he couldn’t possibly be as devastated as she. “Let’s see, now. That furniture should be arriving...,” she thought a moment, counting, “in four days.” “You’ll have to store it somewhere. We can’t have it here.” More expense. She closed her eyes and felt the undertow sucking away the last of her resources. “Couldn’t we store it in one room while we worked in the others?”“No. You’ll be gone, and I don’t want it in the way of my crew. I don’t know if I’ll use any of it. I wasn’t planning on a Victorian interior.”“But your design would look well with any—”“It wasn’t what John requested.”“But it was what she wanted!” Jennel returned hotly, raising her voice for emphasis. She was getting bolder, arguing her case with him. He didn’t take offense at her comments, like her father always had. If the issue wasn’t so terribly serious, she would’ve enjoyed doing battle with Zack.He grumbled, muttered something to himself, but finally acknowledged her point. “So we’re at a stalemate it seems, until I can find out. Put the furniture in storage so it won’t get damaged. If they decide on it, I’ll see what I can use. Women!” Still grouchy, muttering forcefully to himself, he limped inside, leaving a semi-victorious Jennel to wonder if that last exasperated word referred to her, to Mrs. Van Chattan, or to their sex in general.She gave him time to prepare for bed, then went in, put her things away and quietly got ready herself. What if there was a divorce pending? What if Mr. Van Chattan refused to pay any of the bills his wife had accumulated? What would she do then?Her mind recoiled over the specter of an enormous pile of bills steadily accruing while her tiny business sunk deeper and deeper into debt. The growing stiffness of her neck and shoulders and the dull ache in practically every muscle in her back didn’t help her feel any less weighted down.Picking out a pair of shorts and a loose sweatshirt to sleep in, Jennel carefully crawled over Zack and slid into her bag. Together, yet separate. Alone. Wanting to touch him, yet afraid to make the move. Each night they had spent side by side, she had felt more and more like crawling in with him, seeking the comfort of his arms. But he wouldn’t be content with hugs and kisses. She’d start a fire she couldn’t possibly handle.To get emotional about a man who was trying to get her out of his hair was a bona fide way to end up with a broken heart. She had enough troubles with her business, she didn’t need to add that kind of complication. Besides, Zack wanted her gone. Period.The trouble was, the more she was around him, the more she liked him—his voice, his laughter, and especially his smile. And the more she liked him, the more she wanted to respond to him. The logic, that told her “no”, was about as welcome as a chaperon at a high school dance. In her mind, she knew what was the right thing to do, but the rest of her refused to listen.Sighing, she turned restlessly in the confining bag. Her whole body ached, and she couldn’t get comfortable. Finally she spoke, deciding it was too early to attempt to sleep, even though she was stiff and exhausted. He was awake, as he had been lying with eyes open, staring introspectively at the low ceiling when she turned out the light.She asked him about his day, how the work had gone, then about his boat, and finally about himself. She wanted to know more about him so badly...it was almost like she was starving for knowledge.“How did you get interested in architecture? Did your father do any building?”“No.” He answered readily enough, his rich-toned voice pleasantly quiet. “He worked as a logger for awhile, then in the mill in Bellingham. He loves making things from wood. I suppose I picked that up from him. When I was a kid, I figured I’d be a logger. But once I designed a house, I knew that was for me. How about you?”“I was always designing. Instead of dressing dolls, I “dressed” the doll house. I’d paint the walls or draw in wallpaper and sew rugs and curtains from cloth scraps.” “I wish my sister would’ve had something like that to keep her busy. She was constantly in trouble.” He paused, then added slowly, “She drowned, water-skiing at night.”“Oh, Zack, I’m sorry. When was this?”“Nine years ago. It was my fault. I should’ve made her stay home.”“But—”“I should’ve kept an eye on her,” he insisted. It sounded like it still lay heavy on his conscience.“But you weren’t much older yourself, were you?”“No. But I knew the crowd she was going with. They drank too much.”She was silent for a minute, reflecting on his overworked sense of responsibility, then asked, “Do you have any other sisters?”“Yeah. Michelle. We call her Micki. She’s accident-prone, too.”“Not serious, I hope?” Uncomfortable, Jennel shifted her body around in the bag. She tended to stiffen up whenever she stayed in one position too long.“No. She’s always the one who wrecks the car or drops the eggs or forgets to pass on an important message. She doesn’t actually try to get into trouble. She just doesn’t think ahead. Kind of impetuous, like you.”“I think ahead when I have the information to do so. I’m not at all like Micki. Did she outgrow this trait?”“No. She married young and found out the fellow didn’t know any more about marriage than she did. Now they both call me for advice. I thought I was finished taking care of her. Instead, I just added another person to my menagerie.”“There are others?”“Two brothers. I’m five years older than the rest. The folks were always at work— or so it seemed—so I had the job of raising them. Ham and Rick turned out pretty well, although they still come for advice. And money.”“Ham? Isn’t that an unusual name?”“Hamilton. He’s a carpenter. I use him on one of my crews.”“And Rick?”“Broderick. He’s currently driving trucks to earn his way through college. He wants to be an accountant.” Zack shifted his arm over his head. “Dad refuses to help. He says it’s best for a young person to struggle so he’ll appreciate what he gets. I had to pay my own way although I had enough talent to win some design awards and scholarships, enough to take care of my education.”Jennel yawned sleepily. “I had a scholarship, too. Two years only. Like you, I did it on my designs.”“Any brothers or sisters?”“No. Even though you say yours are a lot of bother, I envy you. The house was always lonely with Mom gone. She’s a real estate agent, and it seemed she was always away at work whenever I was home.”“And your dad?”“He’s in the Navy. A captain. He’s gone for months, then home for months. It’s awful.” She paused, then continued flatly, “We’d be better off if he’d just stay away.”“Why?”“Well, Mom and I would get used to being on our own, then Dad would come home and want to run everything. He’d boss us around and treat us like we were incapable of making our own decisions. I don’t know how he thought we managed when he was gone”“Does your mother feel this way, too?” Zack asked.“Sure.” “She’s said so?” “No. She never complains while he’s home.” “Then how do you know she wants her husband to stay away?” “When he leaves, she has to re-adjust her life all over again. She complains plenty, then,” Jennel declared.“Humm. Have you ever thought, she’s happier when he’s home?”“Of course not.”“She’s under a heavy burden when he’s away. And all alone, now that you’re gone too.”Jennel remained silent, thinking about what he said. Had she misread her parents’ relationship?“Ask her sometime. See what she says,” he urged. “All right. But that’s not the impression I got.” “Aren’t you ever glad when he’s home?” “Well...yes. Sometimes it’s hard to know just what to do. And he decides.” “Right.”“That’s why your brothers and sister sound you out. I bet they don’t always do what you say, either.”He chuckled in agreement. “No. But then they usually regret it.”Jennel shook her head, glad she hadn’t unloaded her trials on Zack. He was too used to giving advice. He’d be just like her father. Men were the same the world around—whether they came from Boston or Bellingham.“One more thing,” he asked. “Yes?” “Is there anything else I need to know...about the house? I’m getting tired of these little surprises.”She gave his question her full consideration. “No. Not that I know of.” Clyde didn’t come into that category.With acquired caution, he went on, “They don’t have an old maid aunt that’s going to live with them or a blind caretaker or anything?”“No. Nothing I know about.”Still he persisted. “No more new information, no changes?”“No.” It must’ve been difficult to find himself thinking all was planned, secured, and ready to start building—then have her come and drop a few grenades on things.“Good.” He sounded immensely relieved and turning over, went right to sleep.Of course he’d been upset. There was nothing so disconcerting as finding yourself out of control, nothing going right, changes being made you knew nothing about and were unable to stop. She knew exactly how he felt.Although it was probably harder on him, a man, used to everyone praising his work. A person who owned his own company and gave advice to his family was used to getting his own way. That kind of man would find it extremely hard to adjust to a young lady dropping in—totally unexpectedly—and insisting he change his plans to what she thought was right.No wonder he wanted to get rid of her. If only their meeting had been different. At a party, perhaps, where they could have been introduced and got a chance to know each other as friends instead of opponents —and then as more than friends.She slept uncomfortably, hearing Brutus barking several times during the night, probably at rabbits. As the night progressed, her muscles became more and more stiff and unmanageable.Painfully stiff. She couldn’t get comfortable.Next morning when Jennel tried to move, she couldn’t. She might as well have been encased in plaster.If Clyde came for her, they were going to have to carry her onto his boat. Her moan, quickly cut short, nevertheless caught Zack’s attention, and he sat up with a groan, stretching sleepily.“We’re a fine pair,” he commented, amused. “The walking wounded.”“Forget the walking,” Jennel replied in a voice that quavered. “I can’t even move my arms. I don’t know how I’ll ever dress or get into Clyde’s boat.”“He probably won’t come today; not unless this heavy fog lifts. It’s blank city out there. One look and I went back to sleep.” Zack reached a long arm up and casually flicked the curtain further aside so she could see the dense grayness.“So, your helicopter can’t come?”“Not in this soup, and not with that rough a landing site.”“I see. So everything’s on hold ’till the fog lifts?”“Some things. I’ll look at your elevations. Now will be a good time to work on those two rooms you mentioned.”Was he actually going to consider them? She moved her head sideways, one inch, no further, like a robot left out in the rain. “You’ll have to get them. I’m out of order right now...all my circuits are down.”“Then we’ll take care of you first.”Just how’d he figure to do that? Prop her up like a wooden doll? Dress her? She felt more curiosity than concern. Zack had stayed true to his promise. He unzipped his sleeping bag enough to free his injured leg, then carefully pulled himself free.“How’s the knee?” she inquired as he limped around, whistling to himself as he dressed and shaved.“Stiff, sore, and aches like some fool stopped a chain saw with it. I think the teeth must’ve bruised the bone.”“That bad?” The doctor hadn’t found any bone chips, but Zack might have washed them out when he was cleaning the wound.“On a scale of one to ten, it’s a minus two.”In this position, Jennel could move her head sideways but not up and down. Her head was held at an awkward angle. She was lying on her long hair and couldn’t move herself off. Oh, great, she thought. A full extra day on the island, and she was going to spend it flat on her back! Her luck was running true to form. If only she could move. Jennel tried again to climb out of the sleeping bag, but her shoulders and back had stiffened up so she couldn’t reach the zipper. Perhaps if she tried to move slower—‘walk’ her hands over. There, that worked.“Coffee or tea?” he asked politely.“Hot tea sounds good, but you’ll have to sit me up and pour it in. My muscles are non-functioning.”“We’ll see.”Sounds came to her: water being poured, the clank of metal on metal, the soft brushing whisper of his boat shoes, the bang of a cabinet door. Testing each limb separately, she discovered her toes wiggled fine and her legs bent easily. But from her lower back upward, nothing worked, except her hands. She could zip the bag down eighteen inches, no further.This was terrible.“There, breakfast is started.” He returned, moving with determination into her range of vision, carrying an open bottle of green liniment in one hand. He wore a loose cotton shirt, buttoned halfway up the front, and black walking shorts, making her breath catch at how handsome he appeared.He smiled, his hazel eyes alight as he viewed her helplessness. “Can you turn over?”She could fish flop, but she’d take her bag with her. Seeing her futile attempts, he put the bottle where it wouldn’t get knocked over and unzipped her bag. With a quick flip he lifted the covers away, then helped her roll over onto her stomach. His hands were strong and capable, while Jennel felt as unresisting as an unstuffed doll.“What are you going—” She broke off as her sweatshirt was pulled up to her neck and the cold liniment splashed onto her back. She gasped, then flinched as his work-hardened fingers began to knead the tender muscles of her shoulder, neck and back.“Ow!” If she’d been able to move, she’d have leaped right off the cushion-covered floor. As it was she groaned loudly and fought back tears. She didn’t want to act the baby, but couldn’t help herself. This hurt almost as much as when he’d washed out her feet.“Zack. Stop! Please.”“Be quiet,” he ordered, and kept right on rubbing. “It’ll feel better soon.”“Maybe,” she protested fervently, “but will I be alive to notice? That hurts! Do you have to go at it so vigorously?”He laughed in sympathy and eased the pressure until it was almost bearable. “Sorry. I’m not rubbing all that hard. It just feels that way.”The liniment had a strong peppermint smell, and Zack slopped it on liberally, soothing the liquid in with a firm deep pressure causing the tensed and aching muscles to relax and the pain to gradually ease.Everything was sore, yet as Zack continued to work the liniment in, Jennel began to believe she might live after all. His hands rubbed gently, almost seductively, and this time Jennel moaned in pleasure.“Still hurt?” “No.” “No?” He stopped, threw the covers back over her and recapped the bottle. “Then rest for awhile longer.” She did, dozing for another fifteen minutes until he returned with the tea.“Can you sit up now?”“I don’t know...yes, I think I can!” She struggled into a sitting position, helped by his strong arm. “Thanks. Oh, that was marvelous! I never realized...I mean, I had visions of being carried off on a stretcher, set forever in that position.”His hazel eyes danced with humor, laughing silently as he beheld her excessive gratitude, her astonishment over what must have been to him a simple matter. Maybe it was, to him, but to her it had been the difference between being helpless or not.He was still kneeling beside her, his arm around her back, his face scant inches from hers. As she returned his smile, everything was suspended for a moment— all sound, all motion—while their eyes met and held in a wordless search, a question broken only when the tea cup rattled in his hand, and Jennel looked down to take it from him.The shared moment, so precious and elusive, lasted for only a few seconds, yet Jennel felt as if her life had entered a new phase.One that included Zachery Waylan.Chapter TenZack stayed with her, silent; his arm supporting her while she drank her tea. An acute awareness of his presence made her gulp it faster than normal. He was close— too close. She could feel the slow in and out movement of his lungs, the soft whisper of his breath as it moved across her cheek, the hard pressure of muscle under warm skin.The fog outside added to the sense of isolation, of privacy. She felt in harmony with Zack—far from the smothering worry of her fledgling business, far from civilization, from responsibility, accountability. Was he feeling that way also?The empty cup clattered when she set it on the saucer, her gaze fixed on the tiny scar across the knuckle of his left thumb. “All done,” she informed him, unnecessarily, and he took the cup and saucer in one hand and helped her to her feet with the other. Conflicting expressions flickered across his face, and she wondered what he was thinking.“Boston?” His voice sounded unnaturally harsh.“Yes?” “I wish... I wish that... Oh, forget it.” What did he wish? She looked expectantly at him, but he moved away, seemingly intent upon putting the cup and saucer into the sink. She hesitated a second longer, then entered the small bathroom to dress.What had Zack been trying to say? If he had not given his word, would he have tried to make love to her? He looked torn between desire and frustration. Or was it simply frustration over having her close, but unattainable? Did their closeness affect him, as much as it did her?Or was he wishing she was off the boat, gone out of his life and no longer a nuisance? That was more likely.If only he wasn’t so against her designing the interiors on this house. His refusal over-shadowed everything they did. His assumption that she should give way to his “expertise” was beginning to slacken, but he still treated her like she was helpless and incapable.In spite of Zack’s rubdown, she couldn’t lift her arms above shoulder level. Her clothes were a struggle to put on. And her hair was impossible to handle.She took one horrified look in the mirror at the orphaned waif with uncombed hair and pale face, and bewailed ever regaining her dignity while on the island.It was just not to be.She could forget about using any female wiles to entice Zack into letting her remain on the island. The way she looked, he’d be immune to anything she said or did.Hobbling back into the main cabin, Jennel gave a sheepish smile. “It takes longer when you can’t lift your arms.”He grinned, a lopsided, knowing grin that lit his perceptive eyes, and cocked one eyebrow with a suggestion of mischief. “I would’ve helped you. Gladly.” “No, thanks,” she muttered with a small laugh. “I’m finished. Except for my hair. That you’ll have to do. There’s no way I can braid it.”With a wave of his hand, he dismissed her loose hair entirely. “Leave it. It’s fine. Let’s eat.” That seemed to be the all-important item for the moment, so she joined him at the table.She couldn’t figure him out. Last night he had demanded she braid her hair immediately, even though she was soon going to bed. This morning he said it was fine. Puzzled at his contradictory nature, she picked up her fork.Toast and eggs, bacon, orange juice, milk. He put away three times as much as she, and she was eating more than normal. Usually she wouldn’t touch fried eggs, but the salt air made her hungry. She enjoyed the simple act of breakfasting together, the shared meal making her heart zing with buoyant happiness.When they were finished Zack picked up her hairbrush and motioned her to sit down in front of him. She did, settling her back against his legs.The long sweeping strokes, like the touch of a lover, evoked the extremely powerful sensation of being endlessly caressed. Stroking, slowly and steadily, over and over, leaving her defenses puddled around her feet.Jennel closed her eyes in pleasure. Her heartbeat quickened in response to the touch of Zack’s hand as it brushed against her neck and shoulders, separating the strands. She could sit all day under his spell.Zack felt his whole body react as the black silk of her tresses flowed through the brush and across his fingers. The effort needed to complete each stroke was unexpectedly exciting, the whole act heightened because Jennel was almost sleepily acquiescent, murmuring her pleasure at each stroke, like a woman responding to a lover. He had wanted to touch her hair again, but was unprepared for the immense wave of emotion that engulfed him. He caught his breath to keep from crying out her name, from pulling her head back to where her sensitive lips could meet his. Lips so inviting, so tempting...She shifted her body to snuggle closer against his shins, and he had to forcibly restrain himself from taking her in his arms and making love to her. Her hair, now spread like a veil across his bare thighs, was the most arousing contact he had ever experienced. One would think he’d been out of circulation for years to react so strongly to her.Her hair was an extension of her nature. So soft and yielding, yet firm, and liable to tangle and be difficult if handled wrong. Would he be able to untangle the snarls of their relationship? To protect and care for her. To love her?Love? Was that the right word? How could he be falling for a woman who stubbornly resisted all his helpful suggestions? Had her near miss with the tree aroused his protective nature to the point that he imagined he was falling for her? How did you know when you were really in love with someone?He played the field, dating plenty of women, but not ready to make any commitments. He had had an overload of responsibility while he was growing up. Yet the protective habit proved hard to break, especially with one so beautiful, so entrancing, so...so able to cause havoc in his life.Jennel was completely unaware of the precautions an island resident took as natural. She was a true “babe in the woods.” She’d be much safer in Seattle, more in her element.He had to get her off the island. But once off, would she stay away? Or would she rent a boat and run over the treacherous rocks that lay just beneath the surface? Get flipped by a rip tide or run over by a ferryboat? Perhaps it would be better to keep her with him while he was here, where he could watch over her, giving himself time to see if what he felt really was love.You’re just making excuses, he told himself. Don’t forget Tony’s wife. Don’t forget what she did to him. Don’t let it happen to you. Get her out of here.Another part of his mind argued back.Keep her around as long as you can. Once she’s gone, you’re going to regret it. She might not be like Tony’s wife, after all. Give her a chance.He had to do something, soon. Jennel distracted him so much he couldn’t keep his mind on his job. Every second was filled with thoughts of her, awake and asleep. Already he was uncertain if he could let her go back to Boston without following her.After prolonging the moment until he could no longer find any justification to continue, Zack set the brush aside. This time he didn’t braid the black shining tresses, but let them fall free like flowing velvet.While Jennel cleaned off the table and slowly straightened up the sleeping area, Zack called his foreman, Jeff, to see how much longer he needed to finish their last project. Satisfied with the progress Jeff was making, Zack set up his sloping architect’s table, trying not to notice the way Jennel’s hair fell softly around her. Whistling softly, he began to work on the plans. First, roughly sketching in ideas, then putting in a workroom and sitting room for Mrs. Van Chattan. By moving a window and shifting a door over, he could put the two on the main floor where Jennel suggested. Then he sketched an alternate plan, making the sitting room larger and moving the workroom and display cabinets upstairs to the second floor.Maybe if he showed her he was willing to accept some of her ideas, she’d stop fighting every suggestion he made.“Ah, yes, she’d love that,” Jennel agreed when he showed her the second sketch. “There wasn’t really enough room on the main floor—and you’ve solved the window problem.”Zack glowed with pleasure at her words, unduly touched by her simple words of praise. “I’ll express mail these back to Van Chattan and ask him to get together with his wife immediately so we can get this settled. If you’ll do some elevations, I’ll send them along, too. If they want the first plan I’ll have to run it past the building inspector for an okay on the changes. The second won’t require any structural changes at all.”Jennel eyed him thoughtfully as he sat with his injured leg stretched out, looking relaxed and at peace with the world.Would he still try to get rid of her, even if the Van Chattan’s wanted her work? Probably. Men didn’t like women taking over their territory. This was his turf. He was here first. Would he “pay her off” and demand that she leave? What if she refused? After all, she was working for Mrs. Van Chattan.But would she still be working after Zack sent the changes? If Mr. Van Chattan knew nothing of his wife’s hiring Jennel, would he—could he—refuse to pay her?Bother, bother, bother! It was terrible when your livelihood depended upon the whim of a person you’d never met! She’d like to try to call them this morning, but didn’t want to talk about things with Zack hanging over her shoulder.Worrying never helped anything, so Jennel shelved the unpleasant thoughts and sat down at the main table to design the new rooms. The nagging fear hovered in the back of her mind until she became immersed in ideas.It took her longer than usual to get into her work. Zack was moving about, feeding Brutus and radioing his crews. Jennel usually could achieve total concentration in the middle of a riot, but found it hard to block him out. She wanted to watch his every move, to memorize him, so when she was forced to leave, she’d have total recall.The way he moved, with the supple grace of confidence. The way he stood, relaxed, yet balanced, as if prepared for a sudden change in course. And the musical rhythm of his low voice...when he wasn’t yelling at her.She was still doodling when he turned again to his drawing board, but as he began to turn his sketches into complete floor plans, she stole one last look at him and got down to work. Doggedly, she sketched several ideas for each room, putting in the display cases, a workbench and some storage areas for the many doll parts.Concentration finally came, and she sketched rapidly, ideas flowing from her fingers as she tried to keep up with each new thought. The papers piled up in haphazard fashion, some even gliding onto the floor.“Hey! Hey, Boston!” The voice was low, amused but insistent, and she jerked back, startled at the intrusion, her surroundings bursting back in on her.“Oh! What?”Zack regarded her with good-natured amusement. “You really submerge. How about coming up for lunch?”“Lunch? Surely it can’t be...?” But it was, as a glance at her watch revealed. Actually, it was well past the lunch hour. Glancing around dazedly, she let out a long sigh and laid down her pencil.Carefully he picked up her sketches and tried to put them in some sort of order, studying each one with genuine interest. “You’re a very prolific worker, Boston. Now I see how my plans got shuffled. It’s a wonder you kept them as orderly as you did.”“Umm...yes.” Jennel tried to stretch but couldn’t. She was stiff as an ink eraser. Again. Her back was locked into a bent position.Zack regarded her quizzically, as if taking stock of some new thing, a wry smile flickering over his ruggedly handsome features. “I’ve been watching you for the past five minutes, and you were completely oblivious. You have pen streaks on your face,” he commented amusedly.That was normal. “Where?”“Here.” His gentle touch to her lip was almost a shock. The jolt she received was a physical reality she felt all the way down her spine. “And here.” He brushed across the tip of her nose. Another shock, but not so great.The charge of sensual electricity caught her off balance, unprepared. She was never mentally braced when she came out of her working “trance.” The touch hadn’t seemed to affect him. Did he know what he had done to her unguarded senses? His smiling gaze revealed nothing more than genial interest.Resting her elbows on the tabletop, Jennel gave her lips and nose a rough rub, successfully erasing the unsettling sensations. Since she couldn’t lift her arms, she ducked her head to meet her hands. It gave her time to catch her breath, as well as dull that powerful sparking of electricity generated by the casual contact.She’d heard it said, and now recognized the warnings as proper: living closely together could create problems. Zack would be easy to fall for, and she’d end up with a broken heart, for she refused to get involved with someone who didn’t accept her and encourage her abilities. Her school counselor had belittled her artistic talents, saying she was wasting her time and should train for a computer job. Until Zack allowed her to remain on the island and do the work she’d been hired to do, she would not feel totally accepted by him.She had to keep her distance, but it was hard. The boat projected a close, secure atmosphere, a secret meeting place for lovers, safe from prying eyes. With its soft lighting, continual rocking motion and sleeping area enclosed like a giant cocoon, it had an aura of romance. Like framing a picture, the boat’s atmosphere encased them in a scene keyed toward love and tenderness. A scene that would probably not last when the frame was changed.With stiff, jerky movements, she managed to tilt forward off the seat, but couldn’t stand straight, frozen into the sitting position. She didn’t really want Zack to touch her again—not until she’d had a long talk with herself about self-control and the power of emotions—but knew she wasn’t even going to duck-waddle very far in this ridiculous position!At that thought her imagination took off, and she chuckled to herself. It was time for another rubdown.“Zack...?” she pleaded.No explanations were needed. He’d been watching her, trying not to laugh out loud, the roguish grin she’d come to watch for kicking up at the corners of his mouth as he saw her laughing at herself.“Lie down.” He was enjoying himself. She could hear it in his voice, vibrant with dry humor, and see it in the slow shake of his head. He was lighthearted today, quite likable in fact.Waggling her hands in agreement since her shoulders wouldn’t shrug, she flopped, willingly, face down on the seat cushions. With a flourish he whisked up her T-shirt, unhooked her bra and layered on the penetrating liniment. His hands felt steady, impersonal...and Jennel relaxed. No shocks this time, just pain.“Umm,” she purred in utter contentment. It felt so good, the tension and sore- ness slowly leaving.Then it happened again.To put liniment on her shoulders, he moved her hair aside, lifting it away from her neck. The whisper-light touch of his fingers in passing sent another lightening charge all the way down her spine and she tensed tight from head to toe.“Relax,” he demanded tersely, but how could she? As his hands moved across her skin, the stroking changed into a caress, an invitation to love, and desire flared through her. Did he realize what he was doing? He must have.The overwhelming man-woman attraction was as old as time. She’d been drawn to Zack from the start, but had successfully resisted her feelings. Or so she’d thought. He was being so chivalrous today, so cheerful and warm and thoughtful. It was impossible to resist his charm. How was she going to keep herself under control and him at a distance when he acted like this?Then even as her foolish body began to yield, purring like a stroked cat, Zack began a stronger massage, hard enough to nullify the former sensations.Proximity. Jennel sternly tried to convince herself that that was all it was. They were too close in this small cabin. Thrown together like this, they would end up either hating or loving each other; and all because of propinquity.“I like your work,” he admitted as he worked his magic down each arm and out into her stiff fingers, stripping each one of tension. “You’ve a fine, delicate line and a good eye for detail. Your furniture and room stay in proportion. Best, your ideas are good. They’re workable and adaptable.”“Thank you.” Wow! High praise from Zack the perfectionist. Maybe he wasn’t such a beast after all...or maybe the proximity was getting to him, too.“I’ve never seen anyone produce so fast. Do you always work like a deadline has passed or was that just for my benefit?”“Always. I can’t keep up with my ideas.” She wasn’t trying to impress him with her speed, just with her final work—and her own competence—so he’d let her stay.“That’s a tiring way of working.”“I relax afterward, although not usually with a massage. This is real service.”“You haven’t heard what I charge.” He re-hooked her and helped her sit up, a crooked grin crossing his face so that she didn’t take his dry teasing too seriously.“I thought it was free.”“It is sometimes—and sometimes not,” he warned, his darkly gleaming eyes challenging her to make what she wanted to of that statement. “How do I know...which time is which?” “You don’t. Feel better?” “Yes, definitely.” Even her fingers felt relaxed and rested. The man was a marvel. She should hire him permanently.“Then let’s eat.” “Is it ready, already?” “Yes.” “I should be fixing some of the meals. I’m sorry.” She was. He shouldn’t be feeding her all the time. If she was going to prove how self-sufficient she was, she should at least be cooking half the meals for the two of them.“I agree, your cooking shouldn’t be wasted. But a pan of soup is easy, and that’s all I made.”“I’ll fix supper tonight,” she promised determinedly.“Okay...if you’re still here.” He glanced out the window. “The fog seems to be clearing up.”“Oh, no!”“‘Oh, good,’ you mean. I’ve got to keep my crew busy. Once my foreman finishes his other job, he’s going to come here and wonder what I’ve been up to, dragging my feet. I can’t ask for speedy results from him and not do the same myself.”“But I need to finish—” Her anguish was evident, she had never fully mastered the art of dissimulation.“At the speed you work, you’ll make it. If not, mail them back. Better yet, send them directly to Mrs. Van Chattan and insist she take them to her husband.“But what if she doesn’t?” Zack shrugged. “Wait and see.” That was hard to do. Still, with her muscles relaxed, Jennel felt like a new person. She cleared away her papers, then poured tea while Zack set the bowls, pan of chicken soup and sack of crackers in the center. They were both hungry and ate their first bowl in silence.“More?”“Yes, please.” She was eating more than normal, but was probably burning it up in nervous energy. “Just half,” she requested as he tipped the pan. Although hungry, she felt compelled to get back to work on her elevations. She wanted them complete and absolutely perfect to send back to the Van Chattans.“What’s the name of your company?” he asked, finishing the soup. He sank back against the cushions, his rugged physique resting with a casual fluid movement that reminded Jennel of Brutus. Both moved with a deceptively easy and lazy-looking grace that masked the power within.“Jennel’s Interiors. Not very original, but the people I’ve done homes for remember me by my first name and recommend me to people that way. It seemed important to maintain that link.”He nodded agreement. “You’re right. It was too bad you couldn’t have avoided the mess here. Try to check out your next job more carefully.”“Inside and out!” If she still had a business.“Upstairs and down,” he added. “I have a lawyer do all that for me. In the building trade, there are so many people who renege on their promises, you have to be protected.”“I’m finding that out.”He shoved the few remaining crackers back into the wrapper and folded the end shut, then simply sat and stared at the crinkled paper. “This whole affair’s been a foul-up from the start. I’m sorry I tore into you like I did. I don’t usually go off the deep end like that.”His unexpected apology threw her, and she stammered, “That’s okay. It upset us both.”“Me, especially. My professional pride received a sharp blow when you rejected my interiors, and I overreacted. I figured my own designs were near perfect. Then you came along and challenged that.” He grinned ruefully.“I’m sorry.”“Don’t be. Best thing ever happened to me. It still seems impossible that you can whip out ideas in a few hours that make mine look second rate; designs I need days to produce, sweating over them. It’s quite a blow.”Slightly embarrassed from his praise, she said, “I did it for Mrs. Van Chattan.”“I know...and so effortlessly too.”He fiddled intently with the cracker paper, folding and refolding the end. “I was thinking, if you wanted to, we could, uh, you might consider, uh...”“Yes?” It was the first time Jennel had seen him obviously uncomfortable. She leaned forward, bringing herself closer to him.He flicked a crumb off the table, then looked around his bowl as if searching for more. “Uh, coming to work for me?”“What?” “Designing the interiors on my houses.” She looked down at him incredulously, and he lifted his eyes, glancing sideways at her, assessing her reaction cautiously before continuing. “You can think about it. You did a super job on this house. I’d like your input on at least three others I’m struggling with.”Finding her mouth open, she closed it, but still didn’t speak. His totally unexpected about-face had stunned her. Then her heart began a joyous jig, thumping merrily at the prospect. His offer meant she could stay here on the island with Zack. She continued to stare at him, not believing what she’d heard.He fiddled with the paper. “You’d need to move to Seattle, if that wouldn’t be too much to ask. I guess, uh, you could always commute...just long enough to meet my clients, and uh, then mail your designs out, although I’d rather—”“Wait a minute,” she pleaded. It was time to get things straight. “You want me to work for you?”His gaze bore directly into hers now, and his voice firmed. “That’s right. Join my company. I need someone with your talent.”Finished with her soup, she tapped the spoon against the bowl in time with her racing thoughts. His offer was tempting, extremely tempting. Working for him, she’d get to see him daily, especially if she moved to Seattle after this job. And she would have guaranteed work, no clients skipping out on her. It meant security. It meant a chance to penetrate his reserve and see if the emotions were all on her side, or if he felt something for her too. It also meant taking orders from someone else. Did she want to give up her hard-won independence and go to work for him? “I...I don’t know—” “Take your time. I guess I sort of surprised you, but I’ve been mulling it over ever since I saw your work.”“It’s...just...not what I expected.” “No?” “No.” Having a separate contract gave her an advantage on this job: she could contradict him with impunity. But the one who wrote the paycheck gave the orders. What changes might occur in their relationship if she worked for him? “What kind of limitations, restrictions, would you impose? Would I design all the interiors? Or just parts?”Screwing up the cracker paper, he dropped it in the garbage and opened the door. “I hadn’t thought that far. We could draw up a contract. Get everything in writing.”“I’ll consider it. By the time I’ve finished working on this place, I should be able to give you an answer.” He paused, halfway out the door.“That’ll be soon then. You’re almost finished here. There’s nothing else for you to do.” He left, walking up the stairs.Finished? She’d hardly started. Was his offer merely “cover” for another attempt to get her to leave the island?“Jennel!” His low, urgent call brought her stumbling hastily up to the open deck to see what was wrong. “Look!”Chapter ElevenZack pointed toward the open water. As Jennel turned to gaze outward, a large black and white whale breached, flinging itself out of the sea and falling back with a loud splash. Nearby the water was rippling, then two...no, three others surfaced to blow and slip back out of sight. Behind them came another by itself. Five in all, maybe more. In the patchy fog it was hard to tell. They did not reappear, disappearing as silently as they had come.“Those are killer whales, aren’t they?” she whispered in awe.“Right. Orcas. They’re meat eaters.” His voice was also lowered, as in deference to the stately creatures. “They’re not dangerous, not to people. They got a bad ‘rep’ and a poor nickname is all. They’re very friendly.” His mellow voice resumed its normal volume, and she did likewise.“They’re so beautiful. I saw two gray whales—a mother and calf—while I was out on the island yesterday.”“You did? You’re lucky. It’s rare to see them in these waters. Usually they come through only if they’re having problems.”“Oh, I hope not. I wish you could’ve been there.” As she said the words, Jennel realized how much she meant them. To have seen the gray whales by herself was thrilling, but not nearly as thrilling as if Zack had been with her. The shared glimpse of the Orcas had shown her that. Somehow it made the experience ten times richer.She would have liked to have shared with him the tiny hummingbird that viewed her scarf as a flower. Dreamily, she recalled their meals together, the game of chess, even those moments they patched each other up. Everything seemed more fun, more...more intense when he was with her.Was it this way with her mother? Did she miss being able to do things with her
What do You think about Turnagain Love (Sisters Of Spirit #1)?
