Another Man's Children. Christine Flynn

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СКАЧАТЬ did nothing to ease the tension crawling through him. He needed to move, to pace, but he had no desire to get out of the truck and get drenched. Instead, he worked at a knot in his shoulder and checked the rearview mirror for signs of Sam.

      Seeing nothing but the silver drizzle that turned the forest of spruce, hemlock and pine a hazy shade of blue, he glanced toward the rambling log cabin with its wraparound porch and winter-bare window boxes.

      There was something more bothering him. Something about Sam’s little sister that added a different sort of frustration to those he was already dealing with.

      She had been judgmental. And she clearly hadn’t a clue why her brother’s behavior demanded that he be relieved of certain responsibilities. But those weren’t the only things about her that set him on edge.

      She was undeniably attractive. Beautiful, he conceded, recalling the cameo-like delicacy of her face. There was also a polished look about her that screamed high-maintenance. Pretty to look at. Cold to hold. Still, there’d been no mistaking the heat that had jolted through him when he’d met her clear blue eyes, or when he breathed in the fresh, springlike scent clinging to her sun-shot hair. Her skin had felt like satin to him, soft, warm, and before he’d pulled back his hand, he could have sworn she was trembling.

      He’d also caught the way she’d flinched when she’d noticed his neck.

      He was accustomed to the reaction by now, though some people were less obvious about it than others. What was visible, though, was nothing compared to what wasn’t—which was one of the reasons it had been longer than he cared to remember since he’d held a woman, and why he devoted more hours than he could count to running along the windswept beach below his house, and to rebuilding an old fighter plane that was as battered and scarred as he was.

      He dealt with his frustrations as best he could and didn’t look for anything more than he already had. He didn’t want anything in his life that would change the status quo. He’d finally found a degree of contentment living and working in this wildly beautiful place, and that fragile peace was already feeling threatened enough.

      The deep-throated hum of a Chevy Suburban had him jerking around in his seat.

      Jamming down all of his frustrations for the sake of his friend, he plastered on as affable a smile as he could manage and climbed out into the rain.

      Chapter Two

      Zach knew that Sam didn’t usually pick up Jason from preschool. At three o’clock in the afternoon, he was usually either on a flight or tackling his end of running the business. Since business was slower in the winter when they didn’t have the summer tourists and adventurers to transport, Sam taking off early to get his son hadn’t been a problem. Not for Zach. But as he watched his partner climb from his red Suburban and acknowledge him with the lethargic lift of his hand, he couldn’t help thinking that everything his friend did now must in some way remind him of the person who was no longer around.

      As much as he hated to give Sam’s sister credit for anything just then, he had to admit that she was right. Tina had been everything to Sam. She had driven him nuts with her forgetfulness at times and she’d never been crazy about living in “a nature preserve,” as she’d called Harbor, but they had cared enough about each other to overlook whatever differences they’d had.

      The fact that Tina had been willing to put up with Zach dragging her husband off for fishing trips and hanging around for her meat loaf and to play with the kids had made Zach think she was pretty special himself. He’d had the feeling he was special to her, too, in a decidedly brother-sister sort of way. He wasn’t the sort of man who expressed his feelings well with words. Never had been. Never would be. But he was pretty sure she’d known he would have done anything in the world for her and the brawny pilot who’d just opened the back passenger door of his vehicle and ducked his head inside. Jason was back there, strapped in his car seat and no doubt as impatient as he always was to get out now that the vehicle had stopped.

      By the time Zach reached the open door himself, the man in the heavy blue parka was backing up with the three-year-old perched high in his arms to keep the kid’s feet out of the mud. A miniature camouflage backpack dangled by a strap from one big fist. In the other, he had a handful of crayon drawings.

      Giving his son a little bounce to adjust his weight, Sam glanced toward Zach. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going to work on your plane.”

      “I’m looking for the manifest file.” Reaching forward, Zach shoved the door closed for him, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the cold winter air. The sharp report was immediately followed by the crunch of gravel beneath their feet as they headed for the shelter of the porch. “I need the one for the flight to Orcas this afternoon. The shipment of pottery T. J. Walker is shipping to the gallery,” he prompted, eyeing the little boy who’d twisted sideways to see him. “Chuck’s ready to take off, but you’ve got it.”

      From beneath the lopsided hood of his red parka, the impish Jason gave Zach a smile. The blond little boy with the deep dimple in his cheek held up his hand, palm out.

      Zach smiled back. The kid had the biggest blue eyes he’d ever seen. Next to the boy’s little sister, anyway. And maybe their aunt.

      “Hey, buddy,” he murmured, mentally frowning at his last thought as he greeted the child with their usual high-five.

      “Hey, buddy,” Jason echoed, grinning.

      The crunch of gravel gave way to the heavy thud of their boots on steps and porch planks. Beneath the ledge of his dark eyebrows, Sam’s normally keen eyes narrowed in confusion as he halted by the door and wiped his feet. “Why would I have it?”

      A two-day growth of beard shadowed Sam’s rough-hewn features. His short dark hair looked as if it had been combed by the wind and there was a faintly pink quality to the whites of his eyes that could have passed for the effect of a bad cold or a three-day binge—except Zach knew his friend only indulged in an occasional beer, and that the dull, listless look had been there for days.

      Zach figured it was probably from lack of rest.

      Or from tears.

      The thought made him shift uncomfortably as he jerked his glance to Jason. “I don’t know why you’d have it,” he replied, giving the kid a playful punch in the shoulder. Now wasn’t the time to tell Sam he probably had the document because his thoughts had been a million miles away when he’d picked it up. That particular conversation couldn’t be rushed. “I saw you put it in the day’s flight file when we were sorting freight this morning. Chuck saw you take a file from the counter just before you left an hour ago,” he expanded, speaking of the other pilot in their hire. “Since that’s the only one missing, logic says that’s the one you left with.”

      The confusion remained. “All I took were the invoices I’d told you I’d total.”

      “They’re still there.”

      Sam opened his mouth as if to say that wasn’t possible. Apparently realizing it was, he turned to the door. With Jason wriggling to get down, he let the boy slide to his feet and pushed it open.

      Preoccupied as he was, he nearly knocked over the lady Zach had nearly flattened on his way out a while ago.

      Lauren had just reached to open the door when it opened on its own. Taking a quick step back so she wouldn’t get run over, she sidestepped her brother as he walked in.

      “Sorry,” СКАЧАТЬ