There was no way he wanted to do that, but the woman seemed so eager to gush about family, how could he not listen?Sure, why not?It would be a way to pass time.Meet this aunt or uncle…this cousin.This baby or that one.Somebody had a dog?Sure.A horse?A pig?An old car that hasn’t run in fifteen years?Nowthatwould interest him.The rest of it?It was just a way to get through the next fourteen days until he could get back to his real life.However, Jack Finnegan had other ideas that did not include family or meeting kin—or a fourteen-day stay.
“You’re gonna have a bit longer than two weeks to meet your kin and get a feel for this place.”The man’s blue eyes homed in on him, narrowed the tiniest bit.“I say you’re gonna have a lot of time… like three-month’s worth.”
Ian’s fork clattered to the table.“What?”His stomach began to churn, made him worry he’d heave the forkful of chicken and gravy he’d just eaten.
Long sigh and a scowl.“Your father never could take the hard road, always hid behind somebody else and rewrote his own story, so it didn’t look as bad as it was.Made it look like something other than the truth.Always left others to clean up his mess.”He forked a piece of chicken, pointed it at Ian.“It don’t make it easy, and it don’t make it right, but no matter how hard your father tries, the truth ain’t gonna turn a parsnip into a petunia.”
Tsk tsk.“What your Uncle Jack is trying to tell you is that you’ll be staying a bit longer than two weeks.”The woman next to him drew in a quick breath, blew it out nice and slow before she continued in the softest voice, “We’re sorry you didn’t know, but it appears your parents thought this might be the only way to get you here.”
Ian rubbed his temples, tried to make sense of the gibberish that madenosense at all.Talk of parsnips and petunias and truth that needed to be said.The only part he understood was that his father never wanted to make the tough choice.Was Ian a tough choice?Was this trip a tough choice?“I’m staying two weeks.”And then, because Jack and Dolly Finnegan just stared, he added, “Right?”
Jack shook his grizzled head.“No, you’ll be here right up until you have to head back to that fancy college of yours.”He scratched his stubbled jaw, and there was a flash of something that might be sympathy on his weathered face before it disappeared.
“The time will go quickly.”Dolly gave his hand a squeeze.“You’ll see.”One more squeeze before she released his hand.
“I’mnotstaying.”Ian placed his napkin on the table, pushed back his chair, and stood.“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to call my father and get the situation straightened out.”He hadn’t made it two steps from the dining room before Jack Finnegan’s words reached him
“He ain’t gonna answer.That was the deal.You’re here, and he can’t interfere.It was the only way I’d agree.”
Ian swung around, and this time, he did not miss the sympathy or the hint of annoyance on the old man’s face.His wife remained silent, eyes bright as though she were about to cry.“What am I supposed to do here for three months?Walk in circles?”
“Nope.In fact, you got somewhere to be, tomorrow morning 7 a.m.sharp.”Ian couldn’t find the words to ask what he didn’t want to know.No worries, because his “uncle” provided the details.“You’re gonna work with me at the manufacturing plant.Got steel-toed shoes, jeans that don’t cost three hundred dollars, and a T-shirt with the company logo on it.”Another jaw scratch, a scowl.“I even got you a baseball cap with ND Manufacturing stamped on it.Yup, you’re gonna be working in a factory so you can learn what it’s like to use your hands, be a part of making something.And most of all learn there’s only one top dog and you ain’t it.”Those blue eyes narrowed on him.“Don’t expect Dolly to pack your lunch either because that’s your job.”
3
The first time Ian saw Katie Layton, she was chopping wood, dark hair pulled into a ponytail, T-shirt rimmed with sweat, faded jean shorts ripped.And the work boots and safety goggles?He’d never met a woman who wore either unless they were “pretending” for an occasion.But to actually use them while doing work?Ian homed in on the ax in the woman’s hand.Nope, no woman he’d ever known could swing one of those.
He guessed she was about the same age as him, but he was too far away to see what she really looked like, though not far enough away that he couldn’t make out the toned legs, the tanned arms…the curves…lots of curves.The woman hadn’t noticed his presence yet, and he took the extra few seconds to study her further.Aerosmith’s,Walk This Way,blared several feet away, probably the reason she didn’t hear his car.Small towns were different than cities, but still, shouldn’t a person be aware of their surroundings?He bet he could have walked right into her house and taken whatever he wanted.
Small towns might have a cozy feel, and people might insist everyone could be trusted and no one was a suspect, but was that really true?Did they not consider that sort of mentality could make them prey?Uncle Jack, who wasn’t really his uncle but a second cousin or whatever, didn’t see the need to lock the truckorthe garage and only locked the doors to his house because Aunt Dolly would have a fit if he didn’t.
Ian darted a glance at the female lumberjack.She still hadn’t noticed him standing several feet away.Thiswas why bad things happened to people.They stopped paying attention.They trusted too much.They didn’t consider what could happen.His gaze settled on the cabin, took in the front porch, the curtains on the windows, the potted plants on either side of the front door.This was the place where his father once lived, the place the old man thought had been vacant for years.
Except it wasn’t.
He wondered what the inside looked like.Would it be as rustic as the chalet he’d skied at last winter?Would there be quilts and crockery and hand-woven rugs?Would it feel like a home because itwasone?Whose?This woman’s?If so, did anyone else know she lived here?Did they care?
Was she part of the new society push known as a squatter?That last possibility annoyed him.Why did people think they could just take what didn’t belong to them?Why did they feel entitled?And why did this woman–
“Who are you?”
The husky voice startled him, brought him back to the woman with the ax.“I was just wondering the same thing about you.”
“I live here.”
So, shewasa squatter.Ian moved toward her, stopped when he was still several feet away.“Really?”He glanced at the trees and dense foliage.“You live in the middle of a forest?”The frown said she didn’t like that question, and the way she clutched the ax in both hands made him think she wanted to take a swing at him.
She ignored his comment, the frown deepened.“What do you want?”The gaze slid from his polo shirt to his designer jeans, darted to his leather loafers, then his watch before shifting back to his face.“You’re not from around here.”
No, indeed.Thank you for noticing and not lumping me with this pathetic, sad town.He couldn’t put thoughts to sound, so he shrugged and said, “I’m just visiting.”
“Visiting, huh?”
Was that a hint of curiosity in her voice?“Right, I’m staying with Jack and Dolly Finnegan.They’re my–” He caught himself before he spit out uncle and aunt.“They’re my cousins.”
“Jack and Dolly?”Her laughter spilled over him.“Jack and Dolly Finnegan are your relatives?”More laughter and then, “I would not have guessed that.”
“Why not?Because I’m not wearing plaid and a ball cap?”He took a step closer, noticed the red highlights in her dark hair.“Or because I’m not driving a truck?”If he were driving a truck, it would be a tricked-out one, not some old beat-up hunk of junk with a dented fender and scratched paint.
