Burning Secrets. Elizabeth Sinclair

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      For the next hour, all conversation halted as everyone dug in. Jess had missed Rose’s cooking. Shortly after the main course had disappeared and the bowls and platter stood empty, Rose went back inside the house. Smiling, she re-emerged through the screen door carrying a scrumptious looking chocolate cake. She set it carefully on the picnic table and then picked up a serving knife.

      “I don’t suppose anyone wants any of this.” Rose grinned at her twin granddaughters, who whooped and scampered to her side.

      “Me do,” one of the girls demanded, tugging on Rose’s apron hem.

      “Me some,” the other one chimed in.

      Emily groaned and levered herself from the picnic table bench beside Karen. “I couldn’t wait until they could walk and talk, but I’m beginning to think temporary insanity drove me to wish for such things.” She sighed and helped Rose cut a small piece for each of the girls. “I’m glad they’ve at least gotten teeth and aren’t eating mush anymore. Now, if we could only conquer potty training.”

      Laughter rippled over the group.

      Rose patted her daughter-in-law’s hand. “All in good time. All in good time.”

      “Hey, Jesse, have some cake. My mother makes the best chocolate cake you have ever put in your mouth.” Kat kissed Rose’s cheek and looked down at her with a cherishing grin.

      Jesse glanced at mother and son. It was hard to believe they’d only just been reunited after being separated for most of Kat’s life. It certainly didn’t resemble the reunion that had taken place in this house when, at age nine and with a newly deceased mother, Jess had come here to live and had met his father and sisters for the first time.

      Jesse forced a smile. “It’s a good thing someone in your family can cook, or you’d starve to death.” He looked pointedly at Emily.

      “Now, that’s not true. Rose is not the only cook in the family.” Emily paused in the task of wiping chocolate frosting from her daughter’s face, then grinned up at her handsome husband. “Kat makes a really mean lasagna.” She looked at Honey, who gave her a thumbs-up, then at her brother. “And I’d appreciate it, Jesse Kingston, if you would find a topic of conversation other than my lousy cooking.”

      “But you’re so cute when you’re defending yourself,” he teased back.

      Karen glanced at Jesse. Verbal banter. Safe, no emotional commitment. No physical contact allowed.

      She knew how that worked. She’d often seen Paul do it. If you sidetracked people long enough with inanities, they didn’t dig for the real answers. Jesse’s silence added one more missing piece to the puzzle that made up this man. She swept her mind clear of any need to finish this particular puzzle. She had no desire to get involved in any small way with another man who was unwilling to share himself.

      The family crowded around the picnic table for dessert, and Karen noted that Jess positioned himself at the very end of the bench, away from the core of activity.

      When one of Emily’s girls sidled up to him, he offered her some of his cake. Her sister, not to be done out of her share of Uncle Jesse’s dessert, quickly joined them.

      He leaned back and studied them. “How do you tell them apart, Em?”

      Karen stepped in. “It’s easy.” She turned to Emily. “May I enlighten your brother?”

      Emily nodded. “Sure. Someone needs to tell him the secret. After all, they’re his nieces and he can’t go on forever calling them ‘Hey You.’”

      “Cat has a brown mole on her right wrist.” Karen watched as Jesse checked it out, then smiled when he proved her right. “Casey doesn’t have one.”

      “I Cat,” the little girl announced, holding up the wrong arm for proof of her identity in an attempt to relieve any doubt as to which identical twin was which. Everyone laughed.

      It suddenly struck Karen how odd it was that a stranger had learned the secret of how to tell the difference between the twins and their own uncle hadn’t. What a strange man.

      Detecting a slight softening of her attitude toward Paul’s friend, Karen redirected her thoughts. Jesse Kingston might hold himself aloof from the rest of the world, but he hadn’t tangled with Karen’s determination yet. She needed information, and whether Jesse liked it or not, she would pry it out of him if it was the last thing she ever did. So far, his family had shielded him from any question she might have.

      However, his family would not always be around for him to hide behind.

      

      Jesse eased the SUV around a pothole in Emily’s driveway. He checked for oncoming traffic, then swung the car onto the main road that would take them back to Bristol. Thanks to Honey backing him into a corner, when Karen’s car had refused to start, Jesse had been delegated to drive her back to the bed-and-breakfast. Short of being rude, he could do nothing except acquiesce.

      With Emily’s promise to have Kat look at the car first thing in the morning then bring it to the bed-and-breakfast still ringing in their ears, they were now sitting in the front seat of Jesse’s car like two wooden soldiers, neither of them able to find words to start a conversation.

      “You didn’t have to do this, you know.” Karen’s voice filled the car’s muggy interior.

      “And how would you have gotten back to town?” Jess opened the vents on the AC, adjusted the temperature, then hit the switch to turn on the fan.

      “I’m sure I’d have found a way.” She paused. “Kat could have taken me.”

      “Kat was putting the twins to bed.” Considering Jesse had tried his best to get out of driving her, he was surprised at feeling a little put out that she didn’t want to be here anymore than he did, and that the thought of her being, even innocently, with another man bothered him—a lot. Rather than dwell on that, he asked her something that had been on his mind. “How did you know?”

      Karen turned to him, her striking beauty illuminated by the dash lights. “How did I know what?”

      “About the mole. Which twin was which.”

      She threw her head back and laughed. The sound washed the tension of the day from him, or maybe it was the absence of the pressure he always felt around his family. His grip on the steering wheel relaxed.

      “Easy. Cat told me.”

      “But—”

      “She may not talk well, but she can certainly make herself understood when it comes down to who’s going to take the next turn on the swing.” Karen shifted in the seat to face him. Her bent knee brushed his thigh, sending funny little prickles zipping down his leg. “When I took them to the swing, Emily said to allow Cat to go first because they made it a rule that they had to take turns. Casey had gone first last time. When we got there, I couldn’t figure out who was who. Cat enlightened me by telling me her name and showing me the mole.”

      Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Karen studying him. “I think that’s called cheating.” He cast a quick look in her direction, then СКАЧАТЬ