Cold Feet. Brenda Novak

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       M ADISON COULDN’T SLEEP . She was tired yet wound up, and didn’t dare take a sleeping pill, for several reasons. Brianna could wake up in the night. Johnny, or whoever had been with him, could come back. And she wasn’t yet comfortable with having a stranger living on her property. Especially one who knew she and Brianna were alone. Caleb Trovato’s credit references had checked out; he seemed like a pretty solid citizen. But still…

      Pulling out her sketchpad, she sat at the kitchen table and began to draw. She had tons of paperwork to take care of. She needed to review the purchase offers her agents had generated in the past week. As their broker, she was liable for any legal repercussions if they made a mistake. She also needed to revise the independent contractor agreement she was having her agents sign when they came to work for her, decide whether or not she was going to hire the young woman she’d interviewed this afternoon, and review the lease for the new copier she was buying for the office. But she was too tense to delve into work-related matters tonight.

      Because she couldn’t forget Johnny, she drew his eyes. Because she was worried about Brianna, she drew her daughter’s full lips. She even sketched Danny’s angry brow—something that had come to symbolize their relationship. The scratch of her pencil and her intense focus usually eased the stress knotting the muscles in her back and neck. But nothing seemed to help tonight. She still felt as though she were walking a tightrope with the ground frighteningly far below.

      Her eyes slid to her briefcase. The urgency to make her business successful was part of the problem. Sales weren’t going nearly as well as she’d hoped when she’d purchased South Whidbey Realty. She knew she was crazy to be wasting time while Brianna was sleeping, but Madison simply couldn’t face the work she’d brought home with her.

      Flipping to a new page, she considered drawing her mother’s hands. But anything to do with her mother reminded Madison of her father, and she didn’t want to confront her doubts about him. Not right now. Not in the middle of the night with the clock on the wall ticking and the rest of the house so silent.

      She sorted through the faces she’d seen lately: an obese woman with beautiful blond hair she’d met at Brianna’s school; a wiry, angular man who’d just started doing the janitorial work at the office building where she leased space; a baby she’d seen at the mall. None interested her enough to attempt them. But the gruff old man who worked on the ferry seemed to have potential—

      A car pulled into the drive, and Madison’s heart began to race. Was Johnny back? What could he possibly want now?

      Dropping her pencil, she went to the window, but the car that parked behind Caleb’s Mustang didn’t look anything like the one Johnny had been riding in earlier. This car was a late-model Honda. And the person getting out of it was a woman—a tall woman who wasn’t approaching her house.

      A moment later, Caleb Trovato’s door opened and he stepped out under the eaves. His broad shoulders blocked most of the light spilling from the cottage behind him, but Madison could see that his visitor was blond and most likely very pretty. Was she a friend? A lover? Coming this late she could even be a call girl.

      No, Caleb would have no need to hire a prostitute, Madison decided. He probably had more female attention than he knew what to do with. He was ruggedly handsome. More than that, he carried himself with the sort of beguiling indifference most women found so appealing.

      Most women, but not Madison. She’d trusted her father. She’d trusted Danny. She would have trusted Johnny and Tye, except they’d never let her get close enough. For some reason, when it came to men, she wasn’t a very good judge of character. Which meant she was better off alone.

      Even if she wanted a new love interest, how could she get close to anyone while guarding her father’s terrible secret?