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BOOK 6
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Being Yours BOOK 6
Wearing jeans and a T-shirt fit for loading boxes she had never unpacked at her parents’ house, Jill looked around the contemporary apartment where she and Carl had once planned to spend their newly married life. Sheets, towels, and other items necessary for starting a home filled the boxes. There was no reason to take them out now.She was surprised to see that Carl hadn’t moved out very many of his things. She had told him she was turning in the notice, which she had done the day after he’d paid his surprise visit to the ranch. In some ways, Carl was a strangely motivated person, but getting his possessions out of her hair apparently wasn’t something that motivated him greatly.She tried not to think about how depressing it was to have to look at all of his stuff. One phone message at Carl’s office was all she was leaving to warn him that if he didn’t get over here at a pre-arranged time and move out, everything he had parked in the apartment was going to the charity drop-off.After
Being Yours BOOK 6
Dustin pulled his truck into the Copelands’ drive. He stared out the windshield, wondering what Joey was doing right now. It was nearly lunchtime on a cold and blustery December day. Taking a deep breath, he told himself to remain calm no matter what Maxine said to him.Ringing the doorbell, Dustin ignored the chill seeping through his jeans as he waited for someone to answer. To his surprise, Maxine herself answered the door.By the look on her face, she was just as shocked to see him.‘Morning, Maxine.’‘Wh&t are you doing here?’ Her voice was as brisk and frozen as the weather.‘I think it’s time you and I talked,’ he replied. Though his tone was mild, his jaw was clenched with the effort of playing it cool.‘You’ll excuse me if I don’t invite you in?’Maxine glanced over her shoulder. Dustin surmised she was keeping his visit secret from eitherJoey or David. It really didn’t matter. He could have his say just as easily out here on the porch.‘I want you to get your lawyer off my
Being Yours BOOK 6
The cowboy hat looked familiar, as did the squarefaced, determined profile. Keeping the chain on the door, she cautiously opened it. ‘Marsh?’‘Hi, Jill.’‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, her stomach somersaulting.‘Uh, me and China were in the neighborhood and we thought we’d stop by.’She could see someone standing behind Marsh. Jill held back a groan. ‘I’m not really in a position to have company,’ she said, trying desperately to think of a way to keep the sheriff out of her apartment. She had a funny feeling he was here on business, courtesy of Dustin.‘Come on, Jill. At least let me say my piece. The old lady’ll be disappointed if I come home without talking to you.’At the mention of Eimice, Jill slid the chain off the door and opened it. Marsh made his way in, limping a bit. China offered her a sympathetic smile as she followed.‘How is Eunice doing?’‘Much better, I think. Ready for her life to get back to normal, anyway.’‘I suppose my mother told you where I lived.’ Jill
Being Yours BOOK 6
Marsh’s blithe statement didn’t set too well with Jill, never mind how truthful it might be. ‘All I have to say to that is if you don’t turn aroimd and take me to my parents’ house. I’m registering a complaint with your supervisor. Then I’ll call a taxi from Dustin’s house to bring me back home, at which point I will send the bill to the Lassiter police department.’‘You’re kidding, right?’ The carefree smile slid off Marsh’s face.‘No, I’m not.’ Jill shook her head. ‘I’ll be very upset with you if you do this.’ She didn’t know if the threats she’d thrown out would worry the sheriff, but it didn’t matter. She couldn’t to go to Lassiter.‘You’d better go back. Tommy,’ China said softly.‘Aw, hell,’ Marsh complained. He turned the truck around at the next break in the intersection.‘I appreciate the thought. Marsh, but there are some things you can’t make happen, even for your best friend. Or his mother.'Didn’t he know it. ‘I guess you’d say the word if you changed your mind. I’d be ha
Being Yours BOOK 6 EPILOGUE
Tiny pieces of popcorn lay scattered under the tree on Christmas Day. Joey had enjoyed stringing it, but then he wanted to eat it, so occasional tugs on the string had left little pieces of the stuff lying on the carpet. Jill smiled at the mess, glad to be here instead of in the pristine apartment Marsh had said lacked heart. There was plenty of heart here.Last night she and Dustin had performed their ‘Santa Claus’ duties, placing brightly-colored packages with fancy ribbons under the tree for Joey. His stocking bulged, especially the toe, where Jill had put an orange in the very bottom. She’d so enjoyed planning these surprises for the child; it was almost a miracle to her to be actually putting small toys and candy in his stocking. She had loved wrapping his presents.She heard the pattering of Joey’s pajamaed feet hurrying down the stairs. A smile automatically lifted her lips. ‘Merry Christmas, Joey!’ she called as he ran into the parlor.He ran to squeeze her with a big hug. ‘I
Being Yours BOOK 7
'Are we getting divorced?’Rachel Gold kept her gaze focused on the tarot cards spread across the mahogany table in the traditional Celtic pattern, and considered the woman’s frantic question. There had been rare times over the past years that Rachel had regretted her decision to become a tarot reader, but when faced with having to give an unwanted answer she wondered if there wasn’t an easier way to make a living.Passing her hand over the Death card without touching it, Rachel felt tendrils of energy vibrate against her fingers. She lifted her gaze from the picture of an armored skeleton mounted on horseback to study her long-time, and troubled, customer. Anxiety pooled in Sandra Roberts’ blue eyes, deepening the faint crow’s feet fanning out from their corners.Drawing hard on her filtered cigarette, Sandra blew a thin stream of smoke through her trembling lips. Her complexion paled, sinking to gray in a room bright with festive light. In an urgent whisper so the other guests would
Being Yours BOOK 7
Straightening slowly, trying to discern her response, and his, she pulled her hand back. Tingling energy passed through her fingers, like tiny aftershocks, spiraling upward through her veins. Clenching her hand into a fist, she pressed it into her lap.He held so still, his eyes hot and vibrant, that she wanted to squirm. She couldn’t tell if he was displeased that she’d touched him or if he’d experienced the same . . . whatever it had been. Her glimpse of his emotion ended as quickly as it had begun. His eyes turned cool, unreadable, allowing her to sense nothing but a cold, impenetrable wall, which puzzled her. While she couldn’t read people’s minds, their emotions were usually an open book to her. All she had to do was look.Studying him, she realized Jackson Dermont’s emotions were like the reflection in a mirror. The images were there; she could see them, but she couldn’t feel him, interpret his mood into something real and tangible. Or explicable.Then it dawned on her. Her inab
Being Yours BOOK 7
Beneath the laughter and whirl of conversation, the faint chime of a clock striking twelve echoed through the marbled halls. The muscles in Rachel’s back twisted with strain, but she ignored the ache, remaining poised as she finished Mrs Phillips’ reading. It would be at least another two hours before Rachel could leave the Donaldsons’ party. Two tedious hours of forcing serene smiles when all she wanted to do was escape to her own home where she could close off the unsettling vibrations dragging her down.She blinked her dry, stinging eyes against the thick cloud of cigarette smoke hovering above the sea of perfectly coiffed heads. The scents of cigars, perfume and food battled to dominate the air. She tried to focus on the cards, but they repeatedly made a mockery of her ability to interpret them. Little of what she dealt made sense, and what she did understand was too severe for her to relate without upsetting her customers.As she nodded her goodbye to Mrs Phillips, Rachel reminde
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