Chapter Five
By nine o’clock that evening, Andi still hadn’t quite shaken the little buzz that spending a few hours with Liam had given her. And that only made her one hundred percent certain she’d made the right decision. He might not agree with her “logic,” but one look at him and she knew exactly where a dog, borrowed or bought, would lead.
Not that more buzz-inducing hours with Liam wouldn’t be lovely, because they would. But that would also go against every vow Andi had made after Jeff died and she was left to pick up the pieces of a broken little boy.
She closed the dishwasher and wiped off the counter, taking inventory of the Captain America backpack and school supplies laid out on the kitchen table. The first day of first grade was tomorrow…the start of a new era.
Before she knew it, that little boy would be off to middle school, then high school, then college.
Would she let herself fall in love then? Was she doing the right thing by waiting for—
A soft tap on her front door startled Andi, pulling her from her thoughts. Who would be here at nine at night?
Her first thought was Liam, followed by a jolt of happiness and a kick of excitement and a sudden desire to throw caution and those vows of solitude to the wind. Maybe he’d come back to try things the way she had wanted them…purely physical.
And as she walked to the door and smoothed her hair, Andi was already certain of what her answer would be.
Christian’s asleep.
Which meant—
A figure shifted, barely visible through the stained glass of her Victorian front door. She couldn’t see who it was, but her visitor was too small and narrow to be who she hoped.
She peered through the peephole into the light spilling over a dark-haired woman who looked from side to side and then knocked lightly again. A complete stranger at her door at this time…
No, that wasn’t a stranger.
Andi’s pulse kicked up as she fisted her hands, staring at the woman she recognized as the lady who’d talked to them today in Bushrod Square. Why on earth would she be knocking at Andi’s door twelve hours later? A cascade of chills and goose bumps rushed up her arms as she placed her hand on the massive lock Liam had installed that day.
But something, a deep, protective, maternal instinct, kept her from touching the keypad she’d coded mere hours ago.
Andi remembered thinking the woman had looked oddly at Christian that morning and even had a fleeting thought that maybe she’d lost a child or something tragic. There was such a longing, melancholy look in her eyes but, honestly, Andi had been so wrapped up in Liam, she’d never thought about it again.
Why was she here now?
Frozen, Andi tried to decide if she should call out or pretend not to be home.
The woman knocked again, harder this time. “Andrea?” she called. “I know you’re home.”
Andrea? She knew her name?
Andi swallowed, her questions morphing into real concern now. Who was this woman?
“I know you’re there, Andrea. Please open the door. We need to talk.”
A low-grade trembling rolled over her. “Who are you?” Andi asked through the door.
“You mustn’t have looked at me very hard if you don’t know.”
What? Andi peered out the peephole again, straining to see the glass-warped features of a woman who appeared to be about Andi’s age, mid-thirties, stick-straight dark brown hair falling past her shoulders, a sharp aquiline nose, and a slash of high cheekbones.
There was something vaguely familiar about her. Something unsettling to Andi, also.
“How can I help you?” Andi asked, her voice tense. “Tell me who you are.”
“My name is Eleanor, but everyone calls me Nora.”
Nora? She didn’t know anyone named Nora.
“Nora Jean Scott.”
Andi swayed a little, pressing her hands on the door as the name hit home. “You’re Jeff’s sister.” He’d mentioned her a few times, with disdain and disgust, mostly. Nora was the blackest of black sheep who had broken off communication with Jeff and his parents. What would she be doing here?
“I am,” the woman confirmed. “His twin sister. And I’m also Christian’s aunt, so I would appreciate it if you would let me in.”
Andi fought for a steady breath. Why, two years after Jeff died and six years after his son was born, would his sister—his twin sister—show up in Bitter Bark? And why talk to them in the square that morning and not identify herself?
“Andrea, please. I’d like to come in and talk to you.”
“Why?” The question was strangled in her tight throat.
“Because I don’t want to have this conversation through a closed door.”
“I…can’t. We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m not coming out there, and I’m not letting a stranger into my house.”
“I’m not a stranger. I’m Christian’s blood relative.”
The way she said blood made Andi’s own veins go cold. Jeff’s family had cut Andi and Christian off in the cruelest, coldest way. His mother had called to tell her Jeff was dead because Andi, who was legally no more than a roommate, hadn’t been listed as his next of kin. Then Nadine Scott had informed Andi that they would handle all the arrangements and, worst of all, Andi and Christian were not welcome at the funeral service. She’d made it clear that she suspected Andi would be looking for a piece of the family money and that she had her doubts that Jeff was really Christian’s father.
Yes, it had been ugly and heartless for Andi, but not having an official goodbye had been much worse for Christian, who was too young to understand any of it. She’d heard him whispering in his room, using the word Daddy, and he no doubt harbored childish fantasies about a reunion that would never happen.
“Why are you here now?” Andi asked. “Why didn’t you come when he was alive?”
“I came to tell you that my mother has passed away.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” But the words felt disingenuous. The bitter, cold woman who didn’t care about meeting her own grandson? Andi didn’t feel a drop of grief for Nadine.
“Which means I have no one, only Christian. He’s the last Scott alive.”
Except he was a Rivers. “Nora, let’s set up a time to talk tomorrow. I’m happy to tell you everything about Jeff and—”
“I don’t care about Jeff. It’s Christian I want.”
Suddenly, her legs felt weak. “We can talk tomorrow, Nora,” she said, fighting for air.
“You can’t put me off, Andrea,” she said. “I have all the paperwork, a lawyer, and a family arbitrator on my side. I’m seeking custody of Christian, and I’ll get it by proving you are an unfit single mother who has purposely kept Christian from his father’s family and will undoubtedly try to steal his trust fund.”
“Excuse me?” She almost opened the door to be sure she’d heard right, but the words lawyer and custody and unfit mother and trust fund paralyzed her.
“You heard me.”
Fury bubbled up like a hot volcano, making her whole body shudder. “You’re out of your mind,” Andi ground out, inching away from the door to find her phone to call the police and get rid of her.
“Andrea, maybe Jeff never told you how much his family was worth, but as of two weeks ago, when my mother died, Christian inherited a trust of six million dollars, and without a Scott to supervise that money, I know you’ll steal it. I will not let that happen.”
She froze midstep, blinking as though this were all a dream that she had to clear out of her head. “You need to leave.”
“You need to listen,” she shot back. “I can prove that you work long days and spend your evenings with college students and in bars. He’s with a sitter as much as he’s with you, and anyone can break into your house, and I do mean anyone. I paid someone to do it, retrieved his toothbrush, and now have a DNA match if you think you can get away with saying he’s not my nephew.”
She started to shake. Hard. “Go away,” Andi said in a harsh whisper. “You need to go away and go back to whatever rock you’ve been hiding under.”
“Have it your way. I’ll leave the paperwork right here, and you can call me when you’re ready to discuss the case.”
There is no case.
Andi backed away from the door and slipped to the front window in the living room, inching the drape wide enough to see the bottom of the front stairs that led up to her door. She gasped softly when the woman came down the steps and turned toward the house, the carriage light spilling over her face.
Now she could see it so clearly. The same intense eyes, the same wide mouth, the same angular bones. The female version of Jefferson Scott.
This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t possible. A stranger, an estranged relative, could take her son? Or even suggest that it was possible?
Six million dollars?
People would do anything for that kind of money. She watched the figure disappear down the street and into the shadows. For a long, long time, Andi didn’t move. She stared out the window, too stunned and terrified to open the door and get what the crazy woman claimed to have left behind.
While she stared, she knew she needed help, and deep inside, she knew exactly where to get it.
* * *
When Liam came in from drug-detection training, he was hot, starved, and sick of talking. He was finally finished with the four TSA agents and their dogs for the day, and they’d done amazing work in the rubble pile. It was time for all of his students—two- and four-legged—to break for lunch. The dogs would sleep in cool kennels all afternoon, and the trainers would listen to a lecture from Waterford’s resident dog behaviorist. That left Liam free to head into the main house, ready to eat in air conditioning and speak to absolutely no one for a while.
The hardest part about training wasn’t the dogs, it was the small talk and conversation, his least favorite thing to do with strangers. The four agents weren’t really strangers after a few hours of digging through trash and rewarding dogs for finding drugs. But they wanted to chat about dogs, kids, bad guys, Waterford, stuff.
He loathed chatting.
In fact, he was a little pissed off to find his sister Molly and his brother Shane having their lunch at the kitchen counter, laughing about something they were both watching on Shane’s phone. Great. More freaking chatting.
“Hey, Liam.” Molly greeted him with her easy smile. Her long, wavy hair was pulled up in a knot, and she wore white vet scrubs, both of these things telling him she’d been seeing patients and their owners all morning. Shane looked as sweaty and tired as Liam felt, no doubt because the civilian dog training class he was teaching had reached the agility phase, which was hard as hell in this heat and frustrating because owners had much higher expectations than the dogs could usually meet.
He grunted, “Hello,” hoping that told them he had no interest in joining their little lunch party.
“Crystal made chili,” Molly said, gesturing to the stove. “It’s weird how eating something hot cools you down, but that’s what they say.”
He made another noise meant to sound grateful and headed to the sink.
“I’m sorry.” Molly leaned forward. “I’m not fluent in caveman. What did that mean?”
He shot her a look. “Means I’m hot, tired, and not in the mood to talk.”
She rolled her eyes as he washed his hands and Shane sniffed noisily. “Shower would be better.”
Molly snorted. “You should talk, Shane.”
He was in no mood for family joking. “I’ll eat in the family room,” Liam said, glancing at the expansive sitting area that was blessedly empty. The staff, guests, trainees—human and dog—rarely came into the house during the workday. The main house was reserved for Kilcannon family who’d all been raised in this homestead and still had their own “places.” His was at the end of the big couch, with a cushy hassock, under the AC vent, next to the remote.
Being the oldest had its privileges.
“Don’t leave, Liam,” Molly urged. “We all smell like dogs. I had two in surgery this morning, and we ended up putting Cinnamon on an IV. It’s been a rough day in the vet office.”
He paused in the act of scooping chili into a bowl. “That long-haired doxie? She going to be okay?”
“I think so. Pancreatitis.”
“Your specialty, Moll,” Shane said. “No better vet in North Carolina for that. Liam, did you hear Garrett might have an adoption for that Saint Bernard, Seymour?”
Liam’s shoulders dropped as they piled on the small talk. “Yeah. Good. I’m going in the family room to eat alone.”
“Are you in a bad mood?” Molly asked.
“He’s awake and breathing, isn’t he?” Shane jabbed.
Liam glared at him, then started to walk out, carefully holding his bowl of chili and a spoon.
“Oh, look, we have a guest pulling in.” Molly stood to peer out the kitchen window to the drive. “Isn’t that Andi Rivers’s SUV? She drives a silver Acura, right?”
And Liam froze, jerking to a hard stop and almost spilling the chili. Then he exhaled, refusing to look when he realized what his siblings were up to. “I’m not taking your bait, Molly.”
“It is Andi,” Shane said. “And look at that. Dad is on her like a fly on honey.”
Liam gritted his teeth. They were yanking his chain, which was a favorite family pastime. He continued to the family room.
“They’re hugging,” Molly reported. “And talking.”
“Ten bucks he’s inviting her to Wednesday night dinner to sit next to you, Liam,” Shane said with a laugh. “Dogfather doin’ his matchmaking thing.”
Liam still didn’t turn to look, because he did not trust them to be telling the truth. Or himself, if they were.
“Oh, she’s talking.” Molly continued her play-by-play. “A lot.”
“She looks serious,” Shane said, adding the color. “Dad’s frowning and putting an arm on her back. Pointing to the kennels.”
“I bet she came for Jag!” Molly exclaimed.
“Son of a…” Liam slammed down the chili bowl on the coffee table and marched back to the kitchen, swallowing the damn bait whole. Which wasn’t bait at all, but the truth. “Holy crap. She is here.”
“You think we’d lie?” Molly asked, feigning shock.
“Dude, you better get out there before Dad plans your wedding.” Shane cracked up, and so did Molly, the two of them sharing a ridiculous high five like a couple of ten-year-olds.
But Liam ignored them, staring at the woman who was, indeed, in the middle of a serious conversation with his father. She wore white jeans and a pale blue top, and while the outfit looked summery fresh and beautiful, there was something about her expression that didn’t look happy.
Not that he could tell the nuances of her features from this distance, but…actually, he could.
She wasn’t happy. And the minute he knew that in his gut, he headed out to the yard. He stepped out into the steamy afternoon and, as if she sensed his presence, Andi turned to the house. He could have sworn her shoulders dropped a little, as if she was relieved to see him.
“Hey,” he said, trotting down the stairs from the back porch to the expanse of the yard. “You change your mind about Jag?”
She gathered some of her thick, flaxen hair, lifting it off her neck and pushing it behind her shoulder. “I changed my mind about everything.”
He paused midstep, not sure he’d heard that right. “Everything?”
She came closer, and Dad was right beside her, he noticed. “I need the dog, yes, Liam, I do. And I might need more than that.”
He frowned, angling his head, searching her face to figure out what she meant. “You can have anything you want,” he said softly, vaguely aware that his father was observing the exchange.
Let him. He had nothing to hide where Andi Rivers was concerned. They all knew he was crazy about her.
She got close enough that he could see the pain and agony in her cornflower blue eyes as she held out a thick white envelope. “Someone is trying to take my son away from me.”
“What?”
“Andi’s got trouble, Liam,” Dad said. “But we’re going to circle her with Kilcannons, get her all the help possible, and we’ll be the family she needs right now.”
Liam wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but he really didn’t care about anything but the fact that Andi looked like she’d been through a war since he last saw her.
Without saying a word or even thinking about it, he reached for her hand, and she let him pull her closer.
“I’m scared, Liam.”
“Don’t be,” he whispered. “I won’t let anything happen to you or Christian.”
He felt her collapse a little in his arms and knew that no matter what had happened, he would never let her get hurt or be scared. He’d do whatever it took, sacrifice anything, to protect her.
No matter how much it hurt him in the end.