Spirit [New Crescent 2] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (2 page)

Nearing the lane that led to the house, Reggie shook off the threat of melancholy and forced her mind to concentrate on the positive. If she couldn’t have it, then what a wonderful stroke of luck to be able to make the house over the way she’d always imagined. As a child, late at night when she couldn’t sleep, she’d restore the house and grounds in her mind, eventually drifting off to sleep where more vivid dreams awaited her.

Surprisingly, she’d never spent much time inside the house itself. She’d snuck in through boarded up windows a time or two, but for as long as she could remember, Bennett House had been empty and forgotten. When she was younger, she’d resented that the house was ignored by its owners, by outsiders. In her mind, it was despicable to leave such a place abandoned. It deserved life, love, tender-loving care. It gave her satisfaction to know that she’d get her chance to make it a home, even if not for herself.

As she rounded the last curve of the driveway, Reggie smiled at the number of vehicles parked in front. The place was a hive of activity. Her pleasure was short-lived, however, when she spied the all-too-familiar, beat-up Chevy pickup.

Chase McCann. Hell! The last person she was prepared to see right now. For a split second she considered turning the car around and heading for home, but that option slipped away when the man himself stepped out of the house and recognized the car. He headed toward her.

He moved with an economy of motion that was heartbreakingly familiar to her. It suited him. With Chase, nothing was wasted. Everything counted. He spoke only when something needed to be said and acted only when something needed to get done. She couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t know him. He was sewn into the fabric of her life like threads of gold woven into a priceless tapestry.

At six feet seven, he was the only person who’d ever truly towered over her. Sometimes he could make her feel so small. And not just because of his height. Like Reggie, her friends Travis Sinclair, Sam Daniels, and Chase McCann were from Old Families. They’d all been close since childhood. Travis and Sam were like brothers to her, but Chase had always stood aside. Things were different with him. He was no brother to her. The difference was subtle and indefinable, but Reggie knew it was there…between them. Still, she couldn’t imagine her world without him in it.

Sitting behind the steering wheel of her father’s car, Reggie braced for impact. Chase reached the driver’s side just as she stepped out. Neither said a word. He held the door open for her, closed it after her, and still they said nothing.

Uncharacteristically, Chase broke the silence. “No one told me you were back.”

She looked up at him. Damn, he looked good. A tuft of hair stood up on the crown of his head. The sun shone through it. He’d got a hair cut. Maybe he’d had to because of the head wound he’d suffered on her account that past summer. The summer they’d never talked about.

The sun had lightened the tips of his sandy brown hair and had darkened his skin just enough. Reggie knew that some men these days spent hours and paid a fortune to achieve just a fraction of what Chase McCann came by so effortlessly. The thought irritated her and added an edge to her voice.

“I’m back. There, I told you.”

“Good.”

His blue eyes held humor as he appeared to wait for Reggie to start talking. She couldn’t resist. It’s what she did when he was around. She talked.

“I guess I’d never be back officially until I came here. My dad and mom told me that Pat Somers bought the place. She’s my favorite writer you know…” They started toward the house.

Reggie had come unprepared, wearing much-loved, but impractical, high-heeled sandals. The gravel made it difficult to walk with dignity. Without uttering a word, he took her elbow and helped steady her. She continued to fill the silence with chatter. His touch sent tiny reverberations through her body and her heart raced.

Abruptly, she stopped walking and talking and paused for a second.

“I came to the hospital the next day to see you, but they told me you’d left against doctor’s advice.”

“I hate hospitals.”

“Who doesn’t? You should have listened to the doctors. Head wounds can be serious.” She sighed. “The slightest dent and your hair never parts right again.”

Her quip scored, and he laughed. She kept talking. “I went to your house and the Garden Center, and you weren’t there either. You’d left.”

“There was something I had to take care of.”

She put a hand on her hip and looked up at him with irritation. “Care to tell me what was so important?”

“No.”

She shook her head. “No surprise there, but don’t you think I deserve some sort of explanation? I put myself between you and a bullet, cowboy. That should count for something, even to you.”

He had a closed look on his face. “It’s not my story to tell.”

She knew she’d get nothing more from him and sighed with impatience. They were right back to their usual dynamic, Chase calm and stubborn, Reggie angry and frustrated. She had hoped things would be different after what they’d been through together last summer, but nothing had changed. He still maintained that invisible but rock-solid distance between them. Instinctively, she too slid back into old habits. She put an arm up to push him aside.

“Okay, that’s it then. Out of my way, Lawn Boy. I need to take a look around inside. I’m going to bring this house back to life.”

He didn’t move. She sighed and looked past his shoulder. Rolling her eyes and pasting a bored expression on her face, she pointed. “Oh look, your minions are getting restless, a fight’s about to break out.”

He turned and swore creatively. She raised her eyebrows and thought,
Profanity. At least something’s changed.

He gave her an apologetic look, and when she waved him off, he said, “This is the third fight this week.”

Reggie used the distraction to her advantage and slipped past him into the house. Over her shoulder, she called back to him, “Good luck with that.”

Standing in the entrance to Bennett House, Reggie took a deep breath to settle her nerves. There. It was done. She’d seen him and managed to avoid blubbering all over his shirt. With resolve she vowed to bury her feelings. She’d done it before, and she could do it again.
But, damn, he looked hot.
Just being near him, Reggie felt a heat that had nothing to do with the readings on a thermometer.

Why was she shaking? No sense asking the question when she knew exactly why. Damn it! She still wanted Chase McCann. She longed to get her hands on him and to feel his hands on her. She ground her teeth at the thought, and her stomach made its way into her throat. For the hundredth time, she asked herself, how it could have happened and when.

Had it been anyone else, she could have handled the physical desire without question or hesitation…but with Chase? Her skin felt electrified when he was near, and all she wanted to do was get closer. Not for the first time, Reggie cursed her body’s wayward response to him.

Squaring her shoulders and pushing Chase from her mind, Reggie glanced around at the renovations made to Bennett House so far. It was remarkable. There must have been a veritable army of craftsmen working round the clock to achieve such results. Excitement pulsed through her veins. At last, someone was doing it justice. All major work to the upper floors had been completed. They just needed to be decorated. She was pleasantly surprised to note that the master bedroom was almost as she’d imagined it could be. Two smaller rooms made into one large one, with a dressing room and private bathroom. It was magnificent. Standing in the spot where she’d envisioned a high, king-size, four-poster bed, Reggie felt a joy she couldn’t contain. Her laughter sounded right as it echoed in the empty space.

Still smiling, she descended to the main floor. The grand staircase needed work, but she could see its promise. Through a wall of windows opposite the living room, she caught a glimpse of Chase outside talking to one of his men. He’d successfully broken up the fight, but she could see the tension in his shoulders. He wasn’t pleased. She knew the signs. Running her hand over the smooth oak of the window seat in the great room, she watched him. It was a pleasure.

Memories washed over her. She couldn’t help wondering what would have happened between them had circumstances been different. Shaking her head, she sighed and stood up. Too much time had been wasted on what-ifs.

Reggie looked down at the paper in her hands and reread her notes. Jotting down a few more thoughts, she moved from the window seat into the hallway that led to the library.

This particular room she approached with anticipation. She’d always imagined it—every wall filled, floor to ceiling, with books of every kind, on every subject. Reggie smiled when she thought of the research she’d have to do to find the right kind of ladder system to provide the best access to the shelves. She had a million ideas and couldn’t wait to start hunting down the endless number of old books she’d need to do the room justice. Good thing the new owner was a writer. Reggie had good reason to think Pat Somers would appreciate a room overflowing with books.

The hallway still smelled of neglect. She wrinkled her nose at the odor and shivered in the dampness. Hesitating in front of the library doors, Reggie was filled with an unexpected reluctance she couldn’t quite explain.

Disquieted, she had to force her frozen hands to turn the door knobs. Stubbornly, the doors stuck. She used a hip and, with an unladylike grunt, shook them free. Propelled into the room, Reggie stumbled and regretted the decision to force her way inside. What greeted her was unexpected.

Work hadn’t begun here yet. She grimaced. The air inside the library was more than stale, it was rancid…aggressively so. It assaulted her senses, disorientating her. Reluctant to breathe the foul smell, she put a hand over her nose and mouth. The thought of filling her lungs with something so putrid was repugnant. But in the end she had no choice. She took a breath and gagged.

Her stomach dropped as something vital inside her drained away, leaving behind a sucking void. It was as if the disgusting air she’d been forced to breathe into her body had chased away all the hope she possessed and left behind a gaping despair. She wanted to crumple to the floor and weep.

The room was very, very wrong. Unnatural? She didn’t bother to look around more. She knew she had to get out. Turning on unsteady legs she faced the open and mocking doors. With a burst of speed she rushed out of the library and into the hallway. A sour gust slammed the offending doors shut behind her. She didn’t bother to investigate the source. Gasping for untainted air, Reggie sought refuge.

Chase found her in the kitchen. She reached out to him, and almost before she could register movement, he was by her side. His embrace brought the warmth back to her frozen limbs.

Why was his body so warm when his words could be so cold?
Reggie wondered as she rested her head on his shoulder. He could certainly move fast when the situation warranted it. Would it always feel so right in his arms? Perversely, she pulled away from him and stood on her own.

“I’m fine.” She ran her hands through her artistically messy, short hair and shook her head. “That’s just nasty. There’s something really wrong in that room.”

“What room?”

“The library. It’s sickening, cold, damp…and the smell…whew, it’s hard to put words to it except to say that it smells like death in there. Something sucked at me. You know when you haven’t eaten anything and your stomach growls?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Well, my soul felt empty the same way. Only your soul doesn’t growl, it whimpers. If I were the dramatic sort, I’d tell you I was lucky to make it out alive.” Missing his warmth, she wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her hands up and down.

“You? Dramatic? Never,” he said with sarcasm and pulled her back into his arms.

She struggled for a minute, but he felt so good that she gave up and let his warmth seep into her. Reggie rested there until her nerves got the better of her and she needed to talk or to eat. At that particular moment, with Chase’s strong arms around her, she decided food was the more prudent remedy.

“I’m hungry.”

“Of course you are,” Chase said with a gentle smile. “Come on, I’ll share my lunch with you.”

Part of her wanted to refuse. It was safer to stay away from him, but as usual, her appetite outweighed her caution. Together, they walked out of the kitchen.

Summer was over, but obviously, the sun hadn’t received the memo, because it was a deliciously warm day. Autumn was Reggie’s favorite time of the year. When September came around, she’d never wanted to be anywhere but New England. The leaves had just begun to turn color, and the nights held an exhilarating chill that made her heart beat faster. In fact, Reggie reveled in her senses in the fall. The fragrance in the air promised a bountiful harvest. With a palette of colors that could never be reproduced, nature painted her world. Fallen leaves made music as they danced in the breeze. The earth felt moist and rich and mysterious, its gifts sustained and added flavor to all life. Yes, it was good to be home.

Chase, carrying a large bag, two bottles of water, and a carton of milk, joined her in the garden. Her stomach growled as he placed fruit, sandwiches, cut veggies, and cookies before her. They sat on a stone bench that had withstood the test of time and, like the house itself, was just as solid as it had been in the 1700s. Straddling the bench, they faced each other. Chase smoothed a napkin down between them and unwrapped the feast.