Mom in the Middle (8 page)

“Not to worry. A certain amount of this comes with the territory of retail ownership. Unfortunately I have a lot of experience in this area and it's more unpleasant than anything else. I'll just give this clown enough time to cross the line and then react.”

He headed down the steps with Abby close behind.

“Oh, that's right. Once the perpetrator takes the merchandise outside the store they can be apprehended.”

He glanced over his shoulder, cocked an eyebrow at the observation. “I see you've been watching those reality cop shows with Shorty,” he teased. “Actually you are correct, but I'm more concerned about having room to wrestle this perp to the ground than meeting legal requirements.”

At the foot of the stairs he turned and waited.

 

“Is it okay if I call later?” He qualified the reason for the request. “To check on your folks.”

At least he was consistent, Abby thought. Always keeping things professional and practical. But for some reason that was starting to wear thin with her emotions.

“Of course,” she assured him.

He took a step closer, the sudden softening around his eyes making him appear for all the world like a man who was about to give her a hug. But instead of opening his arms, he simply extended a hand and lightly touched her elbow.

“I'd walk you to your car, but…”

Her heart dipped at the foolishness of what she'd been imagining. He was politely getting her out of the store so he could attend to business.

She adjusted her purse and searched for her keys, thankful for an excuse to casually ease away from his contact.

“It's broad daylight and though I'm a natural blonde I can still remember where I left it,” she was quick to assure him. She lifted her keys, rattled them in a wave and turned toward the exit.

She slowed just before the motion sensors picked her up and sent the glass doors sliding apart. A glance over her shoulder confirmed Guy was still visible as he moved toward the aisles of merchandise. What he was about to do could be risky. The only way to ease the concern was to see for herself what he was up to. Keeping a careful distance she mirrored his footsteps and watched, determined to see the drama unfold, knowing Daddy would love to hear the replay over dinner.

 

As he approached aisle six, Guy poked his head around the end cap display. The so-called shopper had evidently completed her selections and was
standing in the checkout line, her back to him as he approached. He'd witnessed her amateurish efforts to slip a half-dozen items into her pockets and backpack. None of those were on the black conveyor passing before the store associate now. He had this sorry excuse for a thief dead to rights. This was not only a piece of cake, it would be downright fun.

The clerk accepted payment for the small purchase, wished the customer a pleasant day and handed over the bright orange, recyclable H&H bag. As the woman in overalls approached the door, the wide panes whooshed apart and she stepped across the threshold.

The store security guard approached from another direction. Guy motioned for the guard to stay clear, signaled that the situation was under control.

Without a backward glance, the thief headed across the wide front walk toward the parking lot. Guy moved in on his target, closing the space between them with a few long strides. He made no effort at verbal confrontation. Instead he reached for the woman, grabbed her by the wrist, and as she yelped in surprise he spun her about. He pulled her into his arms, pinned her back against his chest, locking her tight against him with his forearm, his hand over her mouth to silence her.

They exchanged grunts and groans for long moments as his captive flailed about in a vain attempt to break free. The woman's hands waved wildly, she stamped her feet, trying to catch Guy's toe with the
heel of her boot. When he loosened his grip to dodge her foot she rammed an elbow into his ribs.

Guy grumbled a threat, pulled the suspect to him and pinned her arms to her sides. With the woman finally subdued, he ducked his head close to her ear and hissed through clenched teeth, “I warned you I was gonna teach you a lesson if you ever tried this again.”

She executed an exaggerated shiver at the danger in his tone.

“
You
teach
me
something, hotshot?” The thief's snarl of laughter was a bitter sound. “That'll be the day.”

“You thought you had your scam all figured out, didn't you, little lady?” He pulled her tighter against him, gave her a hard shake that she ignored.

“I'm close, but still working out the details.”

“Well…” He relaxed his grip, pulled off her dark shades and bumped the bill of her cap, knocking it to the ground. A mass of dark curls sprung free, cascaded across her shoulders. “You might want to start with
not
wearing sunglasses inside and doing a better job of squashing that Medusa look into submission. You could also use a course in the art of persuasive deception.”

 

The young woman turned in Guy's arms. A smile alight with adoration flashed across the face that was quite lovely and very much resembled Guy's. She placed the palm of her hand gently against his jaw, patted softly, then pinched his earlobe and hung on tight.

“I've been studying the master of persuasive deception since the day you replaced Kate's dead hamster with a new one and nobody but me ever knew the difference! It's just a matter of time till I can slip one over on you, big bro.”

She punctuated each sentence with a smart tug of his ear. He pulled her into a tender embrace, then buried his face in her out-of-control curls, giving the top of her head a loud kiss.

Abby watched, transfixed by the scene before her. She was still covering her mouth where she'd stifled the need to scream during the physical battle, the likes of which she'd only ever witnessed on television. Now that the skirmish had ended and she was one hundred percent sure this shoplifting imposter was a sister, Abby felt her knees go weak with relief. Even as she relaxed she felt a pinprick of envy over the sweet moment of physical closeness between the two.

With a jolt, the message to her senses was clear. She wanted to hold Guy like that, twine her arms around his taught middle and have him press his face to her hair. She turned, took a step away from the ridiculous notion as well as the scene.

“Abby, wait!” He'd caught sight of her. “I thought you'd already left.”

She hesitated, not wanting to intrude on the touching reunion. Not wanting to deal with the thumping in her chest, the tightness in her lungs. The shame in her heart.

His warm touch guided her to turn toward him.
She reluctantly complied, his hand still gently resting on her shoulder as he made apologies.

“I'm so sorry. I didn't expect anybody to witness our family theatrics. Did we scare you?”

She nodded, too flustered for coherent words.

“Here, let me introduce you to this brat, my baby sister, Casey.” He turned to his sister and pulled her beneath his other arm. “Warden, this is Abby Cramer.”

Ocean-blue eyes so much like Guy's flashed interest at the introduction.

“Not
the
Abby Cramer that I've heard so much about?”

“One and the same,” he admitted.

He squeezed Casey affectionately, but with enough force that the woman flinched. Though he sounded normal enough, Abby sensed he was using brother-sister code to manage the direction of the conversation.

So, he'd spoken to his sister about her, huh?

Casey slipped from beneath his grasp and offered a hand. “Guy has such nice things to say about your family. I look forward to meeting them during my stay.”

“Your stay?”

“Didn't he tell you?” Casey looked from her brother to Abby and back at Guy again before she made her point. “I'm here to begin the quality evaluation of this store. Guy's taken his sweet time on this project and we're almost behind schedule.”

Then she rocked what Abby had just discovered was becoming the solid foundation of her very small world.

“Dad sent me, big bro. He wants you packed and on your way home by the end of the week.”

N
ot for the first time in his life, Guy wanted to pinch a purple place on Casey's arm. She delighted in rattling his cage, so it was never a surprise when she showed up like this, unexpected, unannounced and if she kept running her mouth, unwanted.

But he had to admit the zinger his little sister tossed out invoked a reaction from Abby that did worlds for his recently lagging self-confidence. The light leaked out of her eyes and the corners of her smile wilted like a thirsty houseplant. Then it got better. Her lips took on that same pinched pucker that Dillon got right before he let loose with a wail of discontent.

She cared about him. Guy felt sure of it. And not just because he was handy around the house.

“So, you won't be able to help finish up all the projects you and Daddy have planned?”

Then again, maybe not.

He wasn't completely certain of anything anymore. Well, that wasn't exactly true. He knew there was something special about Abby, something he felt compelled to get to know better if she'd let him. If only there was just a small corner of her heart ready and waiting to accept a new man in her life.

Just in case, he wasn't going anywhere.

“Do not let the Warden's ravings worry you,” he assured Abby. “Casey thinks she's in charge of everybody, runs a tight prison.”

“The Warden and the Admiral must be cut from the same cloth,” Abby observed.

“Well said.” Guy hadn't made the comparison before but Abby was right. His sister had very similar qualities to Sarah Reagan. He turned to Casey. “Abby just likened you to her rather tyrannical mother and I have to say she's right on the mark. You, baby sister, definitely have a streak of dictator in you.”

“Don't make me box your ears,” his sister warned.

He made fists, assumed a fighter's stance and took a playful swipe. A veteran of self-defense training, she expertly ducked, blocked the halfhearted punch and then threw a serious jab to his ribs. He yelped and backed away to a safe distance, rubbing his side while he made his case.

“Listen, kiddo, I've got at least a few more weeks worth of work here before I'm ready to head out. The Galveston project is on track to start in a few months. That gives me plenty of time to finalize the work I want to do at the Reagans' home.”

“But Dad said…”

Guy gave her his infamous, no-nonsense look. “I'll handle everything. I always do.”

“Yeah, right, just like you handled that debacle in Nashville.”

The moment the criticism was out she bit her lip, censuring herself. Even for Casey, that was too far.

But it was hardly a secret. H&H had been under siege after a personal-injury lawsuit in their largest Tennessee location. The case was a matter of public record, but among the family all had privately been forgiven, if not forgotten. An extremely costly lesson learned, they'd moved on. But Casey just couldn't resist the occasional opportunity to scratch open Guy's still-fresh professional wound.

She stepped close and slipped her arm around his waist. “Sorry about that. The timing and the comment were insensitive.”

“Just like you,” he teased, letting her off the hook, knowing she was unlikely to do the same if the tables were turned. He glazed over the awkward situation by moving her an arm's length away so he could survey the shoplifter's disguise.

“That's quite a getup you've got there. I have to admit it's such a departure from your usual navy-and-white uniform that I hardly recognized you at first.”

“Excuse me,” Abby interrupted, “I have to be going.”

Guy checked his watch. “Oh, of course. I'm sorry to hold you up. It is getting late.”

“Late?” Casey glanced at the afternoon sun still high overhead.

“Well, yeah!” He admonished the sister who had no concept of time beyond her own workaholic schedule. “At five o'clock, when you have a baby to pick up from day care and someone at home expecting dinner and a ride to the hospital, it's getting late.”

“Excuuuuuuse me.” She flinched at his criticism, then quickly recovered, the look in her eyes telegraphing suspicion over his protective defense of any woman other than a member of the gaggle. No doubt, Casey would circle back around to that subject first chance she got. She scooped her cap off the sidewalk and tugged it over her curls.

“I'll wait inside so we can continue this conversation.” Seemed the chance was hovering closer than even he expected.

“Abby,” Casey said, turning her attention elsewhere. “It was a pleasure. I look forward to meeting the rest of your family soon.”

“Thanks, but I don't know when that would happen.”

“If there are home-improvement projects to be done, I'm an able volunteer. And at the very least you'll join us for the employee-appreciation barbecue. We have some great surprises planned for our employees.”

“How do you know about all that?” Guy quirked a brow in question.

“There's not much in your life I don't know about.
Or won't eventually figure out.” She smirked, touched the brim of her Dallas Cowboys cap in salute and breezed into the store.

“So that's what a female member of the Hardy clan is like?” Abby smiled and shook her head, her first taste of Casey being a typically spicy one.

“And she's the baby of the family. Aggressive but she's not even the bossy one. Wait till you meet Andrea.”

“Will she be visiting, too?”

“Actually, no. I guess I was just thinking out loud.” Or was it wishing out loud? If he showed up at home with a woman, his mother would faint. His sisters would never let him hear the end of it and his dad would start planning retirement, hoping his son was finally ready to settle down and take the helm.

There was no doubt about it. Guy was going to have to play twenty questions with Casey as soon as he went inside. In the past he'd always managed to come up with rather vague answers about his female friends that had appeased her. So why was it he actually wanted to share a few details this time? Maybe even rub in the fact that somebody might want him as a regular guy and not Guy Hardy, only
male
heir to the Hearth and Home empire.

Abby stirred beside him, needing to be on her way.

“Let me walk you to the car.”

“Sure, if you don't mind.” She ducked her head, but not quick enough to hide the small smile he hoped was evidence she wanted him near for a few
moments longer. The simple acts of courtesy he'd been raised to provide automatically seemed to please her so much. Abby was possibly the most unspoiled woman he'd ever met. He waited while she unlocked the door of the compact car that hadn't seen the wet side of a soapy sponge in months and then he leaned in and opened it for her.

“Is it still okay for me to give Shorty a ride to the rehab center tonight?”

Abby slid into the seat, buckled herself with a snug tug of the belt and tilted her face toward him, squinting into the fading sun. “Why are you being so good to us, Guy?”

She was blunt. She deserved a straight answer, so he crafted one as best he could.

“Because I like you. All of you.”

“And we like you, too.”

She pinched her bottom lip between even, white teeth and sucked in a deep breath. Something important was coming. He squatted, hips to heels, so she was comfortably looking down into his eyes.

“We like you a lot. But your sister just reminded me that when you leave in a few weeks it'll just be me, Dillon and my folks again. You've gotta realize they might have some false expectations, Guy. You've been so kind to us that my family just naturally lights up when you're around. And that includes…”

She paused, swallowed, a furrow of distress settled between her lovely eyes. Was she about to say that included her?

“…That includes my son.” She offered a sad smile. “Dillon's just a baby. He doesn't understand. He waits by the door and asks for you on the days you don't come by.”

“Does that mean you'd like me to come by
every
day?” He was a high-school sophomore again, using his best bashful, hopeful smile to charm a pretty girl. He hadn't needed to change his approach in the twenty-some-odd years since he'd discovered that tactic worked like a charm. But the downward tilt at the outside corners of Abby's eyes told him it was going to be harder than that.

“You know what I mean.” She touched his arm with her fingertips.

The rush of pleasure he'd felt was doused by a wave of remorse. The admission had been hard for her. She was trying to create something that would remind her son of his father, and another man's presence seemed to be working contrary to that effort.

He closed a hand over hers. “Yes, I do, and I promise I'll be very aware of your concern.”

She began to pull away, to turn toward the business of starting her car. He increased the pressure on her hand. Her gaze met his, her eyes questioning.

“Abby, I truly care about your family, especially Dillon.”
But you most of all.
“And you…well, you're an amazing young woman caught between a rock and a hard place, stuck in the middle, taking care of two generations. But you're such a witness to your faith
because you don't treat it as a burden. You see the pressures of your family's needs as blessings, and I find that remarkable. Mostly because I feel the same way about mine and I never thought I'd meet somebody outside of the Hardy clan who would understand.”

She nodded. Words of confirmation were unnecessary. Despite their differences, this was common ground. Family was everything.

Even though he'd never take a wife, never have children of his own.

As he watched her car disappear from sight he took his time in the parking lot, gathering up shopping carts abandoned by customers.

Upstairs in the office, Casey had settled into his chair where she was studying the drawings on his desk.

“I have to admit I didn't see that one coming, even though Andrea mentioned you talk about this girl way too much for it to be anything as cut and dried as business.”

“Andrea needs to keep her opinions to herself.” He reached to roll up the plans.

Casey swatted his hands away and straightened the cheap reading glasses she'd fished off his desk so she could study the pages spread atop the cluttered surface. The oversize, drugstore horn-rims made her look like a barn owl. Add the thick, kinky mop topping off the disguise and his little sis was a real looker at the moment.

“Hmm…so these are the alterations you expect to
make on the Reagans' home? Smart stuff, bro.” She nodded approval as she continued to scan the draft. “And since all the changes are related to disability access we should be able to take this expense as a charitable deduction
and
get some great press from it. But I'm sure that's what you had in mind when you came up with this plan.”

“Actually, this effort is absolutely not to be used for PR because it would embarrass the Reagans. And I don't intend to charge any of this against the company. I'll cover the cost myself.”

Her head popped up.

“So Andrea's right. You've let this get personal.”

“It's personal because these are nice people who deserve a break.”

She yanked off the glasses and leveled the Hardy family eyes at him. The blue intensity never failed to bore into his very soul.

“Listen, I apologize for shooting my mouth off in front of an outsider before, but you know I've got to say this now.”

He lowered his chin and heaved a sigh. Yes, he knew quite well what was coming.

“Ike and Sadie Grossman seemed like that at first, too. But they were nothing but opportunistic trailer trash and, thanks to us they own every mobile-home park on the west side of Nashville today.”

“You've just met Abby for yourself,” he interrupted.

“Her parents are good folks. Members of a Christian community that's developing a mission church.”

“Is that what the report confirmed?”

Guy hated to deceive anybody, but not being straightforward with family was an unpardonable sin. How could he get around this question without being dishonest with his sister, and right to her face? To make matters more pressing, whatever he said to the Warden now would most certainly be relayed to the rest of the family. He opened a file drawer as if he intended to produce a folder. He tried to be nonchalant with his carefully chosen words.

“The report's not final yet but the preliminary information is all positive.”

“Not final? Are you using the same service? They've always been very efficient.”

“The service is fine, just give them some time to do the work we pay them for. And speaking of that,” he said, carefully tending a seed. “The company pays you way too much to have this kind of idle time on your hands, so I'd like you to get involved with the legals on the Galveston project.”

She was silent. He glanced up to see her glowering at him, her arms crossed in defiance.

“What?” he demanded.

“That's always been your responsibility. Why are you trying to push something that important off on me?”

“Just trying to expose you to new details, but if you're not up to it…”

She lowered her chin and held a palm outward. “Stop right there. I know when I'm being baited so
let's just save the games for one of your less discerning siblings.” She glanced up, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “And as long as I'm doing my job
and
yours, how about if I make some phone calls to check up on the investigation?”

“Leave it alone, Casey.” He averted his face, kept his hand occupied with the files. “I'm coordinating this one myself and if I need your help, which I won't, I'll ask for it.”

Casey stood, crossed the few feet that separated them and pinched the fine hairs on his forearm, a tactic the gaggle found very effective in getting the undivided attention of their men. She gripped tightly forcing him to abandon his busy work.