Stipulations and Complications Page 3

  Madison strained to hear the turn of conversation, her face coloring.

  “I thought she and Brash deCordova are supposed to be an item!”

  Another gasp.

  A judgmental, “Tsk tsk.”

  A murmured, “Has she no shame?”

  “The chief of police? I thought he was dating the school nurse,” someone said.

  The first speaker broke in with an informative, “Brash and the nurse broke up months ago. I saw him having dinner the other night with that pretty, blond producer for the show.”

  He did what? Madison sat up straighter. She pressed her shoulders back against the tree, desperate to hear the conversation, even more desperate to remain invisible.

  Oblivious to the crack working its way across Madison’s heart, the woman continued to speak. “They looked mighty cozy if you ask me, especially after they finished off that bottle of wine.”

  Madison forced herself to breathe normally. She had no claim on Brash deCordova. When he said he would wait for her, he had not mentioned whether or not his patience came with a time limit. And even though the man said he was not interested in any woman other than her, he had the right to change his mind.

  I don’t have time for a man in my life right now, she reminded herself for the hundredth time. It normally took just one look into the chief’s soulful brown eyes to forget that fact. Even his affection came with stipulations. I have to trust him explicitly. No halfway, he said. But I have Blake and Bethani to think of. They are my whole world, and the only thing I need to be concentrating on. Them and this house. If Brash deCordova can’t respect that, he can go jump in a lake.

  No, make that a wine barrel. And he can take Amanda Hooper with him!

  Brave words, but her heart still smarted.

  Chapter Three

  Brash deCordova propped both hands upon jean-clad hips and stood back to survey the scene before him.

  Cutter Montgomery and his team of volunteer firefighters slowly worked their way toward the waiting coroner’s van, carrying the stretcher with the skeletal remains upon it. A sheet covered the bones and shielded the disturbing sight from curious eyes. Even though the show called it a wrap and sent their crews home for the day, it hardly meant there was no longer a crowd.

  News of finding a dead body spread like wildfire through the sister towns of Juliet and Naomi. With just two thousand residents between them, the combustion did not take long. Now dozens of people crowded along the street, pushing against the ornate fence, hoping to get a glimpse of something gossip-worthy. The gorier, it seemed, the better.

  Along with the cameras from Home Again, reporters from the local television channel chronicled the event via a live news feed. Reporters from several nearby newspapers now trampled the grass around the Big House, pushing their way in front of the crowd gathered out front.

  Shaking his head in disgust, Brash perused the dozen or so people still scattered about the front of the mansion. He saw Genesis on the front porch, which meant Madison was sure to be nearby… His eyes warmed as he located her off to the left, solemnly watching as the doors closed on the coroner’s vehicle. Brash’s mouth tugged downward as he noticed the celebrity carpenter hovering close to her side, but there was no time to storm to the porch and stake his claim; Cutter was already calling his name.

  Did he even have a claim? Brash wondered as he crossed the lawn. Things were so unsettled between him and Maddy. Weeks ago, he had made his position clear: he wanted a future with her, but he refused to do halfway. He told her to go home, get her head together, and let him know when she was ready to trust him.

  He was still waiting for her call.

  Maybe she would never call. Maybe she would never trust him. Apparently, her deceased husband had done a real number on her. Maybe the scars went deeper than he imagined. Maybe he was wasting his time, waiting for a call that would never come.

  Reluctant to believe that, Brash half-listened to what Cutter had to say. The younger man assured him the fire department had secured the area and would continue to keep the crowd at bay. If Brash could offer a few words to the press, Cutter and his men would take care of the rest.

  Showing less enthusiasm than if he faced a firing squad, Brash made a very brief statement in the impromptu press release. Steadfastly declining to answer any questions, he encouraged the reporters — and the crowd — to go home and await further information as it became available.

  He did not approach Madison until he was satisfied that most of the people heeded his suggestion. The crowd finally thinned and the news crews packed up and headed out.

  Nick Vilardi noticed his approach before the women did. He shot off the porch railing and met the police chief as he started up the steps, bombarding him with questions. “Do you have any idea how long we’ll be delayed? We have a very tight schedule. Will we be able to work tomorrow?”

  Pushing the brim of his cowboy hat up with a flick of his finger, Brash gave the dark-haired man a cool look of assessment. Tension already simmered between them, thickening the air whenever they were thrown together; both were aware of the other’s interest in Madison. More than once, their respective jobs had put them at odds. Nick had the best interests of the show at heart, whereas Brash was there to protect Maddy and the residents of the towns. If he happened to protect his own interest in Maddy in the process, all the better.

  With slow, deliberate movement, Brash took the final step onto the porch, therefore exaggerating his height advantage. He looked down his nose at the other man, best he could; with only a two-inch cushion, the gesture was not nearly as intimidating as he would have liked.

  “I’m sorry if finding a dead body doesn’t fit in with your schedule, Nick.” The words were amiable enough, but delivered with an edge.

  “It’s a skeleton, Brash.” Nick’s voice was every bit as condescending as the officer’s. “A good thirty or forty years past a dead body.”

  “Yes, but it belonged to someone. It’s my duty to find out who that someone was, and I don’t need a dozen or so extra people milling around, hampering the process.”

  “Surely you don’t expect to find any evidence after all this time!”

  In answer, Brash crooked his brow in his signature expression: half frown, half-arched eyebrow, nostrils slightly flared. He had perfected the look years ago, during his days as a college football coach. One crooked brow could silence the most vehement outburst. The imperial gesture had served him even better as an officer of the law.

  To his own credit, Nick met his domineering gaze straight on.

  “Brash?” Madison’s voice broke through the men’s silent standoff.

  “Maddy.”

  Other people surrounded them, but something in the low timbre of his voice made the greeting intimate. She rewarded him with a shy smile.

  Mindful of the two other women on the porch, Brash forced his hungry gaze off Madison’s pale face as he moved their way. “Hello, ladies. Genesis, Amanda.” He nodded to each woman as he spoke, but his eyes soon returned to Madison. “It’s been an eventful day. I suggest you all go home and relax for the rest of the day.”

  Madison’s hazel eyes flew to his. “Relax? There’s a dead body beneath my house.”

  “Not anymore,” he reminded her. “And it’s obviously been there for quite a few years, whether anyone was aware of it or not.”

  She ran her hands up and down her arms, warding off the chill only she could feel. Someone had called her to the porch earlier, so here she still sat, above the spot where someone had died. “I know,” she conceded. “But it’s still rather creepy, knowing someone died down there. And knowing that the secret staircase led up to Miss Juliet’s bedroom…”

  “It is rather curious; I’ll give you that.”

  “I wonder if we’ll ever know why she had all those secret passages,” Genesis said, shaking her head in contemplation. “What does this make, Nick, like three or four so far?”

  “At least,” the carpenter agreed.
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  Amanda Hooper joined in the conversation. “This house was built in 1915, far too late to be a part of the Underground Railroad. I’m not familiar with Texas history, but was there anything happening in the state around that time that would have warranted hidden passageways and secrecy?”

  Brash searched his memory banks. “Nothing major that I can think of,” he said. “Oil production was growing, cotton was still king, and railroads couldn’t lay tracks fast enough. If I remember my history right, the biggest issues of the day were pushing for prohibition and the women’s right to vote.”

  “Prostitution and the Klan were still big then,” Madison added. She was a bit of a history buff. “And there was some sort of threat posed by the Mexican Revolution, where there was a radical scheme to kill all white men over a certain age. But most of that trouble was down along the border, not here in the Brazos Valley. I can’t imagine Miss Juliet being affected by any of the issues of the day. Certainly not enough to put in all these secret passageways.”

  “She must have had her reasons, imagined or otherwise,” Nick rationalized. He turned to give Brash a direct look. “The real question is, how is this newest discovery going to affect our schedule?”

  Brash barely contained his sigh. “I have more investigating I need to do, more photos I want to take.” He glanced Madison’s way, noting the worry written upon her face. He couldn’t care less about disrupting Vilardi’s tight schedule, but it was Madison and her twins who would suffer because of a delay. Besides, the sooner Nick Vilardi finished this job, the sooner he would be gone from their lives.

  Hoping to reassure her, Brash offered Madison a wink that the carpenter could not see. Then he elaborated. “The master bedroom, staircase, and cellar will be under strict quarantine. But if you can guarantee your workers will not interfere with the investigation, I see no reason why work can’t resume tomorrow morning.”

  Nick was not appeased. “We’re scheduled to start work in the bedroom by the end of the week.”

  “Then re-schedule it.”

  “You obviously don’t understand how the re-modeling process works. We have coordinated specific workers, deliveries, even television crews, all based on a very carefully constructed schedule. One change in that schedule can disrupt the entire thing.”

  Brash was unaffected. With another crook of his brow, his reply came out with a note of finality. “And you obviously do not understand how the process of the law works. I can shut down specific portions of the house, or I can shut down the whole thing. Your choice.”

  A nerve twitched in Nick’s tightly clenched jaw. He stared at the lawman for a long moment, trying to find a chink in the granite facade.

  “Fine,” he said at last, his tone clipped. “I’ll see to it that your investigation is not disturbed.”

  “Excellent.” Brash turned toward Madison, all but dismissing the other man. “Maddy, may I have a word with you?”

  She glanced down at her watch. “Sure. I want to pick the kids up from school anyway. We can talk on the way to my car.”

  He offered his hand as she stood from the chair. He knew cameras were rolling in the background, recording their every move. He knew Genesis watched the process with a twinkle in her eye. The light in Vilardi’s gaze was not nearly as friendly, nor was the slightly wounded look in Amanda Hooper’s pretty face. He knew the producer had a bit of a crush on him, even though he had never encouraged her. Dinner last week had been strictly business.

  In spite of it all, Brash very deliberately wove his fingers through Madison’s and guided her off the porch. He could not worry about the consequences.

  Public or not, he was staking his claim.

  ***

  Earlier declarations to herself aside, it felt so right when Brash took her hand. His touch steadied her nerves and made her feel grounded. Madison murmured a goodbye over her shoulder, allowing the chief of police to lead her off the porch and into the yard. Her car was still across the street.

  “How are you holding up, Maddy?” he asked when they were out of earshot from the others.

  “I’m okay,” she said, but her voice lacked conviction. “Like I said, it’s a little disconcerting, knowing someone died down there and simply… rotted away. But as selfish as it sounds, that’s not what bothers me the most. It’s all the added drama and hoopla of the press and the gossips and the onlookers.” She gestured to a few relentless stragglers, still standing along the street watching as the last of the news crews drove away.

  “You know how it is. Big news in a small town.” He pushed the gate open, releasing her hand as they went through the opening single file.

  She felt lost again without his touch. Not stopping to think the action through, she covertly slipped her hand into his once again. She refused to look his way or to acknowledge the surprise she knew would spring onto his face. Brash made no comment, but he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

  “Did you find any clues at all down there?” she asked.

  “Not a single one. Tomorrow, we’ll rig up better lights so that we can really look around, but to be honest, there isn’t much to see. The room was practically empty.”

  “Except for a skeleton.” A shiver accompanied the words.

  “Except for a skeleton,” he echoed, squeezing her hand again.

  “What if it was something bad, something sinister? What if I can’t bring myself to live there? We might find out Miss Juliet was hiding some horrible secret all these years.”

  “You’ll cross that bridge when you get to it. Remember, that body has been there for a very long time. If I thought for a single minute you were in any sort of danger, I’d never let you live there. You know that, don’t you?” He looked down at her, an intent light in his brown eyes.

  The words from earlier echoed in Madison’s mind. I saw him having dinner the other night with that pretty, blond producer… They looked mighty cozy if you ask me.

  She forced the echoes away, reminding herself it was gossip. The unseen person talking about Brash and Amanda Hooper had also insinuated that Madison was somehow responsible for not only the skeleton’s discovery, but its actual existence. Given that the skeleton had been there for decades, the implied accusation was ludicrous. Perhaps the rumored dinner date was, as well.

  Another voice echoed in her mind, this one warm and deep.

  You’re the only woman I’m interested in… I want a future with you, Maddy…

  Two months ago, Brash had asked her to trust him. Perhaps she could start trusting him now, giving him the benefit of the doubt. Heavens knew she had been too quick to judge him in the past.

  Madison moved a bit closer to his side, tipping her head to rest against his arm. “Yes, Brash,” she said quietly. “I do know that.”

  “I’ll keep you updated on anything I find.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  They reached her car, but lingered with their hands still clasped. “If you’re picking the kids up from school, I guess you’d better be going,” he said with obvious reluctance.

  “I think I should be the one to tell them about this latest body.”

  He heard the self-censure in her voice. His own held a note of exasperation. “For heaven’s sake, it’s not your fault, Maddy. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

  “The gossip has already started, you know. ‘She shows up, and dead bodies start popping up like weeds!’” She mimicked the words with a sour note.

  “Gossip, Maddy. Nothing but gossip.”

  “I know, but it’s still hard to hear.”

  “So stop listening.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  A mischievous glimmer slipped into his eyes. With a heart-melting grin, Brash stepped closer and dipped his head, murmuring a few tantalizing words. “We could always give them something else to gossip about…”

  She all but groaned. It was so tempting to step into his arms and accept the kiss that eluded them with infuriating seduction.

  One
of these days, they had both promised. One of these days, they would get around to sharing a kiss. Somehow, something always seemed to get in the way; their fear, perhaps, was the biggest obstacle of all. They instinctively knew that a kiss between them would be magical. That kiss, they both knew, would change everything.

  Her voice came out sad. “I think my life is complicated enough right now, without adding more fuel to the flame.”

  For a moment, she thought he was going to ignore her words and kiss her anyway. Part of her hoped that he would. He cupped her cheek with his large palm and studied her mouth, fascinated by the tip of her tongue as it darted out to moisten her dry lips. “Funny you should say flame,” he murmured.

  There was nothing amusing about the flame that shot through her now, licking around her with its wicked blaze. Madison struggled to breathe normally, when inside, her lungs were choked with temptation.

  A tricked-out pickup truck rumbled along the road behind them, its motor loud and rough. The smoke from its exhaust mingled with the flames that smoldered between them. Blinking away the disappointment of another lost opportunity to kiss her, Brash dropped his hand and moved away with a muttered curse.

  “I swear, Maddy,” he said thickly, “one of these days, I don’t care where we are or who’s looking, I’m going to just grab you and kiss you, and get us both out of our misery!”

  She surprised herself, being able to laugh at a time like this. Nerves, she supposed. That, or the sheer joy of knowing she had not lost him, after all. She put her hand onto his chest, a bold move in itself. “So you think kissing me would be miserable, do you?” she teased.

  He did not share her humor. He rubbed a hand along his neck, easing away the tension gathered there. “Can’t be any worse than not kissing you,” he grumbled.

  Madison laughed again, patting his chest. “One day we’ll test your theory,” she promised. “But not now. Now I’m late to pick up the kids. I have to go.”