Lone Oak Feud (Harlequin Heartwarming) (2 page)

“Rangers,” Owen corrected. “Power Rangers.”

Owen’s great-grandmother grabbed his hand, and the two of them started to walk down the hallway.

“Mrs. Rundle?” The woman seemed to have completely forgotten she was there.

When Mrs. Rundle turned to look at her, the politeness disappeared, replaced by a scowl. “What do you want?” Any confusion that may have been there before had also disappeared.

“Owen told me his dad wasn’t here. When will he be back?”

Mrs. Rundle looked troubled, her weariness evident. “His dad?”

“Isn’t he Josh’s son?” She hated even saying the words.

The older woman’s face looked strained for a moment. “Yes.”

Lindsey’s instincts screamed that something was off here. “Where is he?”

“He’s not here. I take care of the boy now.”

“I see.” She studied the woman’s somber face. “Mrs. Rundle, are you okay?”

Thin eyelashes fluttered over her dull eyes. “I’m fine,” she rasped into the awkward silence. “Leave us alone.”

Lindsey watched Owen and decided he had no qualms about staying with his great-grandmother. He still clung to the woman’s hand and looked up at Lindsey expectantly, as if waiting for her approval.

She reminded herself her approval wasn’t required here. The questions she was programmed to ask as a caseworker weren’t her concern this time. Owen wasn’t one of the kids she was assigned to help.

But her case or not, his well-being
was
her business—she’d make it hers. Was this moody woman capable of seeing to Owen’s needs? Based on what she’d witnessed in the past five minutes, she wasn’t anywhere close to convinced.

* * *

A
N
HOUR
LATER
, L
INDSEY
was still mulling over Owen and his great-grandma as she drove her dad’s extralarge, old-man car back to her house. Something was definitely wrong.

She parked in the street, then ran up the creaky wooden stairs to the front porch and let herself in. Brooke was still awake, judging by the smells of cooking coming from the kitchen.

Lindsey went in to say hello and grab a snack—something not as healthy as what Brooke was sure to be cooking.

“How’s your dad?” Brooke asked, standing in front of the stove.

Lindsey set her dad’s chocolate cake on the counter, then stood on tiptoe to rummage through the cabinet above the fridge. “He wasn’t too bad until he saw Owen Rundle.” As she grasped a bag of jelly beans, she briefly related the tale of finding Owen and her dad’s reaction to the boy.

“So Josh split, huh?” Brooke watched her and stirred some kind of egg concoction in a large skillet.

Lindsey poured herself a handful of candy, then shrugged. “Apparently.”

“You don’t seem as happy as I’d expect.”

She moved closer and looked over Brooke’s shoulder. “Why are you making enough eggs for an army at ten o’clock?”

“I missed dinner. So?”

“So?” Lindsey sorted through the jelly beans in her hand, grouping them by color, and stuck three green ones in her mouth.

“Josh? You think he’s gone for good?”

“Most likely, now that there’s a reason for him to stick around.” She couldn’t keep the disgust out of her voice as she ate the red jelly beans next. “But Owen’s probably better off with him gone. If only his great-grandma can hold it together.”

Brooke flipped the stove off and dumped a bowl of grated cheese into the eggs. “What’s he like?”

“Owen? Nothing like you’d guess Josh’s son would be. Cute. Quiet. Likable.”

“Poor kid.”

Discussing Josh made Lindsey’s stomach turn, to say the least. “I need a shower.” She popped two yellows into her mouth, dumped all the black jelly beans in the trash and headed for her bedroom.

As much as she didn’t want to think about her run-in with the Rundles, she couldn’t get it out of her mind. She tried to put a finger on what was going on. Mrs. Rundle had offered no further information on Owen’s dad, but knowing his reputation for letting people down, it was likely he’d taken off and deserted his kid. How anyone could do that to a child, she’d never been able to understand. She saw it all the time on the job and it made her want to pull her hair out—people who didn’t value their children above everything else. How did they justify that in their minds?

She didn’t get it. But then she also didn’t understand how Josh could live with himself in the first place.

The most disturbing thing, though, aside from finding Owen all by himself, was that it hadn’t seemed as if Mrs. Rundle knew who Lindsey was at first. But that was impossible. She’d watched Lindsey grow up, ever since the Salingers had moved in when Lindsey was six years old.

The phone rang, startling her out of her thoughts. She tossed her cap on her cluttered dresser and grabbed the extension from the nightstand by her bed. “Hello?”

“You make it home?”

The gruffness in her dad’s voice made her smile. “Of course.”

“Don’t give me that. Crazy people out there, even in Lone Oak. You’ve got to be careful.”

“I’m careful. It was a two-minute drive.” She sat on the double bed to take off her shoes and socks. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Lindsey, listen to me. Don’t get involved with those people.”

“Dad—”

“I know how you are, honey. You have to jump in to rescue those in need.”

“I’m not rescuing anybody. I took Owen back where he belongs.”

“You’re getting involved. I can feel it.”

“You want me to ignore my instincts?”

“I just worry about you. I wish you’d stay away from them.”

“I can’t do that, Dad. I don’t trust that family to take care of Owen.”

She heard the concern in his sigh even over the line. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“I’m just going to make sure he’s okay. I have to.”

“Watch yourself, would you?”

“Mrs. Rundle isn’t going to scare me away from making sure Owen’s well cared for. But I’ll be careful. Did Mrs. Hale give you your ten o’clock round of pills yet?”

“What do you think?” he grumbled.

She laughed. “I think she’ll do fine keeping you in line.”

“Keep yourself in line. ’Night, honey.”

“’Night, Dad.”

Lindsey turned the phone off and tossed it onto her unmade bed before crossing the hallway to the bathroom. After turning the shower on, she undid her ponytail and absently brushed tangles out of her long brown hair, waiting for the water to heat.

Was an eighty-something woman really able to take care of an energetic boy? Especially a woman who’d seemed disoriented?

Occupational hazard, she told herself, shaking her head. She stepped into the stream of hot water, running options through her mind.

It wasn’t a case for social services—yet. Not something for her to take on professionally. Sadly, it took a lot more to warrant that kind of attention, thanks to cutbacks in budget and staff.

Right now, a family member needed to get involved. The only one she knew besides Josh was his brother, Zach.

Her stomach took a nosedive at the thought.

Lindsey hadn’t spoken to Zach for...almost twelve years. Not that she was counting. Whenever she heard he was visiting his grandma, which wasn’t often, she made a point of staying away from her dad’s house. She’d run into him exactly twice—somewhat inevitable in a town of less than five-thousand people—but they hadn’t spoken. She’d had nothing to say to him.

Speaking to Zach was about as appealing as ripping her toenails off one by one.

But she didn’t have any choice. Not if she really had Owen’s best interests at heart. He was the only one who mattered in this.

She had to forget how she’d completely embarrassed herself with Zach that night years ago. And somehow totally block out the fact that his brother, Josh, had driven the car that had killed Lindsey’s mom.

CHAPTER TWO

Z
ACH
SLID
BACK
IN
THE
perpetually dusty chair across from his boss. “What if the planning commission doesn’t approve the zoning changes? What do we do then?”

Charles Moxley, his mentor since he’d arrived in Wichita twelve years ago, stretched his arms behind his head. The aged man’s faded sweatshirt popped up and would’ve revealed a round white belly if not for the thin T-shirt tucked into his jeans—Zach had seen it happen so many times he barely registered it now.

“They
have
to approve it,” Chuck said, determined as usual. “Rotten government types would be fools not to.”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“You just worry about getting your facts down pat for the meeting Monday night. With all the research we’ve done, they’ve got to listen.”

“I’ll be ready. Don’t you worry about it.”

Chuck lowered his hands to the desktop with a smack. “Ain’t worried at all. You’ve never let me down.” He beat his hands on the desk as if it were a drum. “You’re getting so uptight about things here, I think you worry more about the business than I do.”

Zach grinned. He had a lot at stake with Moxley Construction, maybe even more than Chuck did anymore. “Don’t want you running this company into the ground before you sell to me. You know how old folks get.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “We’ll get this approved, no problem. Won’t take no for an answer.”

They couldn’t. Zach had been in on the original purchase of the land in question—one hundred acres on the outskirts of Wichita. They’d sat on the property for years, waiting for the right time to develop it into an upscale neighborhood of homes and businesses. The time was now. Unless someone on the commission didn’t see things the same way.

“I’m off to the Harrison site first, probably be there until early afternoon. Then I’ll be at Prairie Acres. Gotta wait for an inspection. If they don’t get there today, we’ll have problems.”

Chuck stood and hefted up his jeans, then saluted. “I’ll sit in the office and be useless, as always.” He chuckled, but Zach knew staying away from the action, as Chuck called it, bothered his boss. After his dreary health report last spring, his wife had banned him from job sites and physical labor, the parts of the job Chuck loved most.

If Zach could do something to change that, he would. He owed the man everything he had. The luckiest day of his life had been when Moxley had taken a chance on a rebellious, angry eighteen-year-old with enough attitude to choke an army sergeant.

He’d given him the job as a trial. Two weeks. One mistake and Zach was out of there. Fortunately, he’d passed the test and had worked his way up the company ranks. When Moxley retired in a couple years—or sooner if his health got worse—Zach was set to buy the company from him. Finally, he was
this
close to making something of himself. Not bad for the outcast from Lone Oak.

Zach stepped up into his truck and was about to put the key in the ignition when his phone rang.

“Rundle,” he answered tersely, wondering what crisis had cropped up at the site so early.

“Zach Rundle?” The melodic feminine voice caught him off guard. Women didn’t call him if he could help it.

“This is Zach.”

“This is Lindsey Salinger. From Lone Oak.”

The past and the town he hated came storming back to him in a barrage of memories. Images of the accident that had killed Mrs. Salinger flashed through his mind, threatening to bring back feelings Zach had locked away years ago.

“Hi,” he said, wondering what she could possibly want.

“I’m sorry to bother you...” He heard her inhale, felt her hesitation. “I’m worried about your...grandma...and your nephew.”

His heart dropped. “What’s going on?” He wasn’t sure he could handle bad news about Gram. He’d convinced himself she’d be around forever.

“I’m not really sure. I found Owen outside last night, huddled under a bush crying. No one had noticed he’d been gone...for a while.”

Instantly, relief flooded him. Gram wasn’t in immediate danger. It took a few seconds for him to register what else she’d said, though, and who Owen was. His nephew. Zach had yet to meet the boy and had a hard time imagining any offspring of his brother.

When he’d heard of the kid’s appearance at his grandma’s house, he’d just shaken his head. Unfortunately, Josh and trouble went together like peanut butter and jelly, and a child popping out of nowhere was definitely trouble.

When they were growing up, he and Josh had proudly shared the “bad boy” crown by being general nuisances, but Josh had more than taken over the title in the past decade or so. After the accident, Josh’s life went downhill. He was aimless, drank more than his share and now he had a kid to worry about. Zach hated to see it, but didn’t know how to help him.

“Where’s Josh?”

“Gone, apparently.”

“Gone where?”

“No idea. Hasn’t been seen for a while, from what I gather.” The intensity of her dislike for his brother struck Zach in the chest. He couldn’t blame her, though.

This was exactly the stuff he wanted to avoid. Remembering. Feeling.

“I haven’t heard from him in weeks,” he said. They were close enough, but they didn’t keep tabs on each other.

“He left Owen with your grandma.”

Her tone said that should explain everything to him. Call him dense, but he didn’t get the problem. His grandma had served as both mother and father to him and his brother, and she’d done the best she could. Child care was nothing new to the woman. Even if she
was
getting up there in years.

“They’ll be okay.”

“That’s just it... I’m not convinced. I took him home last night and your grandma...she didn’t seem well.”

“Didn’t seem well, how? What’s wrong with her?” A rush of possibilities filled his head.

“She seemed disoriented. I don’t think she knew me at first.” Lindsey paused. “Put it this way—she was
nice
to me for the first five minutes I was there. She let me into her house. She had no idea Owen was missing.”

Being nice to Lindsey
was
an oddity for Gram, but not cause for him to drop everything and run home. And there’d been plenty of times when he himself had pulled one over on Gram by slipping out the back door. “Owen’s a boy. Boys sneak around and cause trouble.”

“He’s only five, though.” He heard background noise, another person talking, Lindsey saying she’d be just a minute. “Zach, I’m the last person who wants to butt into your family’s business, but you need to check on your grandma. Age can affect people differently.”

Something in her voice caught his attention. Was she insinuating Gram was losing it? No way. His grandma might be old, but she was one strong woman. He’d visited her for Christmas, and she’d been sharp as a tack.

“What are you trying to say? You want me to come to Lone Oak?”

“I’m saying I’m worried about your nephew.”

“I don’t get it. Why would you care about Josh’s kid?”

“He’s a little boy. Someone needs to make sure he’s okay, that he’s getting the care he needs. His father sure isn’t. He’s got a lot working against him.”

“If Gram is there, he’s fine.” It really was that simple.

“Check on your grandma, Zach. If you don’t, I will.”

So the grown-up Lindsey was pushy, aggressive. He wished he could say that was unappealing. “Is that a threat?”

Her voice was softer, but not calmer. “I’m giving you fair warning. I intend to make sure Owen has a competent guardian. If something were to happen to him, we’d all be sorry.”

We? Since when did she care about anything Rundle? Not that her lack of faith surprised him. Most of Lone Oak held his family on about the same level as mud.

Lone Oak was the last place he wanted to be, but he wouldn’t let anyone, pretty face or not, mess with his grandma. He exhaled loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be there late tomorrow.”

He hit a button on his phone to end the conversation. If she so much as breathed a word of her off-base ideas, the whole Podunk town would be whispering about his grandma before he could pack a bag and gas up his truck. He’d bet this was nothing more than her trying to get back at Josh, but he couldn’t sit by and ignore it. Even if it meant coming into contact with Lindsey Salinger again.

* * *

A
GITATION
HAD
BEEN
simmering since her phone call to Zach this morning. What was it about him that made her edgy? He didn’t take her seriously, that’s what it was. He doubted her competence and her sincerity. Made her feel like a child trying to cause trouble.

She stood in her dad’s kitchen, heating a mug of water in the microwave. Mrs. Hale was here tonight, but Lindsey liked giving the woman a break. The housekeeper wasn’t paid well enough to be her dad’s nurse on top of everything else, even if she insisted she enjoyed helping him.

Lindsey frowned as she watched the digital numbers tick down. Zach had always made her feel like a child, even though he was only two years older than her.

If he thought she could be insensitive enough to hold Josh’s sins against an innocent child...well...just the idea burned her to the core. What kind of a person did Zach think she was?

In truth, she supposed he had absolutely no idea what she was or who she was. They didn’t
really
know each other, not beyond the names and reputations a small town had built for them—and an evening of ill-advised liberties in an old, dusty wood shop she wished she could forget.

Still. That he would treat her with suspicion gave her the urge to break something. Possibly his neck. She knew Owen hadn’t been in the family for long, but surely Zach had an ounce of caring in him and didn’t want any harm to come to the child. Did he?

It came back to the same thing—she didn’t know. She didn’t really know him, either. Sure, she once thought she knew him, thought she’d seen some redeeming qualities in him. But that was a lifetime ago. He’d still been a boy, and she, a naive girl searching for a hero. Had she ever searched in the wrong place.

She’d made every effort to know as little about Zach as possible since he’d left town. She wouldn’t care if he were the governor of Kansas. She had nothing to do with him anymore and never would.

Or at least she wouldn’t once this situation with Owen was cleared up.

Lindsey stirred tea for her dad, after adding a generous dollop of honey, then carried it to his room.

He eyed the mug suspiciously. “What’re you going to make me choke down now?”

“Brooke says it’s good for your immune system and healing. I sweetened it up for you.”

She held it out to him but he didn’t budge. Setting it on the nightstand, she bent to kiss him. “Drink it by the time I get back.”

“Brooke’s tree-hugging home remedies are going to be the death of me, not my faulty ticker.”

She chuckled. “Drink it.”

“Where you headed?”

“You don’t want to know.”

He didn’t say a thing, just got quiet and looked morose.

“Owen left his cement mixer here last night. I’m taking it back. If you hear gunshots, call 9-1-1 and pray that old bat’s a bad shot.” She hurried out the door, wishing he’d laugh at her attempt at lightness.

Lindsey grabbed the truck she’d found under the kitchen table and went out the front door. Hopefully Josh was still gone.

Unlike the other night, when she and Owen had cut through the grass, Lindsey walked all the way around on the sidewalk, heading for the driveway on the far side.

She rolled her eyes, remembering all the times Mrs. Rundle had hollered at her and her sisters for being on her precious crabgrass-ridden lawn. It was as if she’d watched out the window for the slightest infraction. Before the accident, the relationship had been more neutral, but since then, there’d been nothing but tension. Elsa Rundle’s mission seemed to be to make sure no one looked on her grandsons badly. No matter that at least one of them might deserve it. It had probably crushed Mrs. Rundle when Josh had done time for his crime.

As Lindsey ascended the slight incline on the Rundle driveway, she heard someone in the backyard. She followed what sounded like feet thudding onto gravel every few seconds.

She found Owen jumping from the back concrete stairs into a dormant flower bed filled with small white rocks.

“Hi, kiddo.” She smiled as he raced to the top step to leap again.

Jump.
“Hi!” He didn’t slow down to talk to her, heading back up the stairs.

“What are you up to?”

Jump
. “Exercising.”
Pant, pant.
He gave the task everything he had.

“Careful not to fall.” She moved closer and took the opportunity to hold out the yellow truck when he landed again. “Look what I found in my dad’s kitchen.”

His eyes lit up when he saw it. “I thought it was lost forever!” He rushed toward her and grabbed the toy. Without so much as stopping to breathe, he skipped to the pavement, dropped to his knees and assured himself the truck still drove right.

“Is your dad home yet?” If he was, she was outta there.

“Nope.”

“Does your grandma know you’re outside?”

“Yeah.”

Lindsey glanced toward the closest window, expecting to see narrowed eyes glaring at her, but there was no one there.

“I’m glad she knows where you are. That way you won’t get lost.” Or cold, she thought, although he did have a jacket and ratty Power Rangers shoes on.

Lindsey wasn’t completely comfortable walking off and leaving Owen by himself outside, but she didn’t have any choice. Mrs. Rundle must be checking on him from the window periodically. Owen appeared to be fine—no signs of the lost, scared boy she’d come upon yesterday.

“I have to go now, Owen.”

He halted his noisy narration of the cement truck’s progress across the driveway and glanced up at her with a long face. The little guy got to her, in spite of who his family was.

Those eyes begged her to stay a while longer. Five minutes of her time was nothing, and she could handle Mrs. Rundle if she had to. Kids needed interaction and playmates, and she’d bet a month’s salary Owen didn’t have much of either. “You want to play for a few minutes?”