Surrendered Hearts (3 page)

Lying back, she lifted her left hand and traced the twisted patterns of skin on her neck, shoulder and arm.

It wasn’t a dream. The scars were real. The fire had swept through her apartment and burned everything. Her beloved dog, Beau, was gone, and her fiancé, Phillip, had disappeared after one look at her hideous burns.

She squeezed her eyes shut against the painful memories and let her hand fall to her side, but she couldn’t banish the angry, hopeless feeling rising in her heart.

Hadn’t she already been through enough—losing her parents and then living with relatives who barely put up with her until she turned eighteen and their legal responsibility ended?

Downstairs, a door closed. Footsteps crunched across the stone path. Two doors slammed, and a motor rumbled to life.

Jennifer eased herself into a sitting position, careful not to use her right arm. She crossed to the bedroom window and peeked out in time to see the black truck backing out of the driveway. Bill sat behind the wheel, and her brother filled the passenger seat. A small blue Toyota sat on the far side of the driveway.

So, the truck belonged to Bill. The Toyota must be her brother’s.

She released a heavy sigh as she watched the truck disappear around the bend in the road. Then she shifted her gaze to the yard below. Dew sparkled on the grass like little prisms of shimmering light. White daisies and small purple wild flowers swayed in the breeze. She pushed open the window. Cool fresh air greeted her. It must be Tuesday morning rather than Monday evening.

Why had Wes left without checking on her or saying goodbye? She needed to talk to him and begin making plans. Uneasiness tightened her empty stomach. She pulled the window closed and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to halt another shiver.

What would she do all day by herself?

Then another question rose and tore away the tiny shred of peace she tried so hard to hold on to.

Would Wes and Bill let her stay? Where would she go if they didn’t?

She closed her eyes, yearning to talk to someone who cared. If only she believed there was a God who listened and answered prayer. But she’d given up that fantasy the night she’d sat in the emergency room and prayed her parents would live.

The answer to her plea had been a devastating “no.” So she’d closed her heart and never whispered a prayer since.

* * * *

Bill tapped his pen on his desk and tried to focus on the grant application in front of him. He just needed to double-check the changes he’d made to be sure there were no more typos. He shifted in the chair and glanced at his watch. Ten thirty-seven.

Why hadn’t Jennifer called?

He tossed the pen aside and rose from behind his desk. Leaving his office, he strode into the Nature Center auditorium looking for Wes. He found him up on a ladder hanging a new sign for the reptile exhibit. “Do you know what time it is?”

Wes checked his watch. “About ten-forty.”

Bill huffed. “Well, aren’t you going to do anything about it?”

“What do you mean?” Wes climbed down the ladder.

“I mean, don’t you think it’s a little strange that your sister is still sleeping after nineteen hours?”

A small smile twitched at the corners of Wes’s mouth. “Are you worried she’s turned into Sleeping Beauty or something?”

Bill scowled. “No, It’s just not normal for someone to sleep that long. What if something’s wrong because of her burns or the smoke inhalation? Don’t you think you should check on her?”

Wes rubbed his chin. “I could call, but if she’s still asleep, she probably needs the rest. When she wakes up she’ll find that note we left on the kitchen table.”

“If she wakes up,” Bill grumbled under his breath. “So you’re just going to wait?”

“I thought I’d go home at lunch and check on her if she hasn’t called by noon.”

Bill looked at his watch again. “Okay, why don’t you go ahead and take an early lunch? I don’t mind keeping an eye . . .” His words faded as Jennifer stepped through the front door.

Her hesitant glance swept the room, stalling when she spotted Bill. Emotion flickered in her eyes. She touched the collar and top button of her pale green blouse then smoothed her hand down the sleeve.

“Hey, Jenn.” Wes crossed the room and greeted his sister with a hug. “You look rested.” He smiled as he surveyed her, affection in his eyes.

She laughed softly. “I slept a little longer than I expected.” Her gaze met Bill’s and held. “Hello, Bill.”

“Morning.” He nodded and crossed his arms, but that did little to shield him from the way her arrival stirred his senses.

Her cheeks flushed pink, and she shifted her focus to her brother. “I saw your note, so I decided to come see you. I hope it’s okay I used your car.”

“That’s why I left you the keys. Use it whenever you like.”

“Thanks.” She glanced around the auditorium at the display cases lining the walls.

Bill couldn’t help noticing the way her honey-blond hair fell in shiny waves over her shoulders. Today her eyes looked soft green shaded by long dark lashes. He frowned and shifted his gaze away.

Jennifer turned to Wes. “Do you have time to show me around?”

“Sure, I’d love to give you a tour.”

She smiled and nodded, admiration for her brother shining in her eyes.

What would it feel like to have Jennifer look at him that way? The question rattled Bill, and he quickly shook it off.

“Let’s start in the office. I want to show you Bill’s bird collection.”

Bill lifted his hand. “I’m sure Jennifer’s not interested in seeing a bunch of stuffed birds.”

“Oh, I’d love to see them, if it’s all right with you.” She sent him a hesitant smile, waiting for his response.

A slow warming started in his chest, moved up his neck, and flushed his face and ears. Did she realize the power of her smile? He quickly glanced away, silently mocking himself for being such a fool. She was an actress. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Sure. Go ahead.” Bill’s tone betrayed his irritation. He didn’t believe she was truly interested in his birds. It was more likely that she wanted to humor him or impress her brother.

Wes led the way, telling Jennifer about the Nature Center programs and special events they planned for the community and tourists who visited the area.

Bill followed them into the office. They seemed to understand each other with just a glance or a few words. He decided it must be a brother-sister connection he knew nothing about, and it left him feeling like an outsider.

Jennifer gazed at the case holding his bird collection. Her lips parted, and her eyes widened. She ran her hand down the side glass panel as though she wished she could touch the birds. “This is amazing. Where did you find all of them?”

Bill hesitated for a moment. “My grandfather and dad started the collection about thirty years ago. They passed it on to me, and I’ve added a few more birds since then.”

She leaned closer. “What’s the name of that little blue one with the orange chest?”

“That’s an Eastern Bluebird. My dad found him in Maine.”

“He’s beautiful,” she whispered, awe filling her voice. She turned and looked at him, a new interest in her eyes.

Conflicting emotions battled in Bill’s spirit. He turned away and pointed to the stuffed raccoon on his filing cabinet. “I have a few mammals too.”

“Mammals? How did you get all these?” She frowned slightly and narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t kill them, did you?”

“No, all the animals on display here died from natural causes or accidents.” He stepped over to the filing cabinet and ran his hand over the raccoon’s back, admiring the soft fur and unique coloring. “This little ring tail is one of my favorites.”

She crossed her arms and lifted her gaze to the stuffed Moose head mounted over his desk. “What about that one? I’m sure he died of natural causes, too.” Sarcasm tinged her voice.

Bill straightened. “I’m not sure. I inherited him when I took over the job as head naturalist.”

“Killing animals for recreation is cruel. I don’t believe in hunting.” She lifted her eyebrows and focused on him, waiting for a response.

Bill wasn’t a hunter, but her attitude hit a nerve. “Hunting big game is a valid method of wildlife management. Seasons are set based on the maximum population a particular habitat can sustain. Hunting actually protects the environment if it’s done the right way for the right reasons.”

Jennifer’s cheeks flushed pink. “It’s never right to kill an animal so you can hang his head on your wall.”

Wes chuckled and patted his sister’s shoulder. “Jenn, I promise you Bill and I did not shoot any of the animals we have on display. It’s our job to teach people to respect the environment and take care of wildlife. We’re always on the lookout for injured animals, and if we find any, we take them to the wildlife rehab center.”

She seemed to relax a little, but she still studied Bill as though she wasn’t quite certain her brother’s words were true.

Bill returned her gaze with a challenge of his own. Memories of Kelsey’s disdain for his job flooded his mind. She’d begged him to quit and look for a teaching position in Boston. If he settled in the city, they could continue their relationship. She didn’t care about his goals and desires. Only her dreams were important.

The memories faded, but they left him feeling hollow and disappointed. He glanced at Jennifer again. Maybe she was an animal lover, but it was clear she didn’t respect him or appreciate his work as a naturalist.

That was fine with him. It gave him one more good reason to stay far away from Jennifer Evans.

Jenn set her coffee cup on the counter by the sink and glanced out the open kitchen window at the quiet meadow surrounding Bill and Wes’s house. Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the tall trees beyond the yard. A large bumblebee buzzed past the screen. A bird called from the branch of a nearby pine tree.

That was all she heard. No cars or trucks barreling past. No blaring sirens or city sounds to interrupt the peaceful moment.

Bill’s den door opened, pulling her attention away from the window. She turned and watched him step out.

He wore a dark green shirt and khaki slacks. She couldn’t help noticing how handsome he looked. Pressing her lips together, she turned away.

He grabbed his keys off the end of the counter. “Ready to go?”

She nodded and picked up her purse from the kitchen table. The three of them were headed to Lauren’s for dinner. What would it be like to meet Wes’s fiancée? Biting her lower lip, she checked the button on the cuff of her long-sleeve shirt and tried to push away the uncomfortable thought of having to explain the explosion and fire again. Her stomach tightened just thinking about it.

Bill glanced at his watch and then toward the stairs. “Hey, Wes, you ready?”

“I’ll be right down.”

Bill crossed to the front door and turned back to look at her. “Come on. I’ll drive.”

With an uneasy glance over her shoulder, she followed Bill outside. They’d hardly spoken since he’d returned from the Nature Center an hour ago. He obviously hadn’t liked the way she’d questioned him that morning about the animals on display.

He opened the truck’s passenger door for her and waited for her to climb into the hot cab. Then he walked around and got in his side. As soon as he started the engine, he pushed the button to roll down both windows and flipped the air conditioner on high, never saying a word.

Jenn fiddled with the handle of her purse and watched the house, waiting for her brother.

The front door opened. Wes hustled down the steps and approached the truck. “Think I’ll drive over.” He grinned at them. “Maybe I can talk Lauren into letting me stay a little later.”

Jenn nodded and reached for the door handle.

Wes lifted his hand and took a step back. “Why don’t you ride with Bill? It’ll give you two a chance to talk.” He smiled at her and headed over to his own car.

Bill drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Are you okay with that?”

“Sure.” She stared out the front window. Being stuck in this hot truck with a man who obviously didn’t like her was not her idea of a good time, but what choice did she have?

Bill backed out of the driveway and headed south on Shelton Road, his eyes focused straight ahead and his mouth set in a determined line.

What was he thinking? Probably silently repeating every critical remark she’d made at the nature center.

After two minutes of awkward silence, she glanced over at him. “I’m sorry for what I said about the stuffed animals.”

He didn’t answer, but she saw the muscle in his jaw twitch.

“It’s just that hunting seems heartless to me.”

His blue-gray eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I got that.”

When he didn’t say any more, she released an irritated huff. What was his problem? She’d made the first move and apologized. Why couldn’t he at least be civil? She crossed her arms and stared out the window again. Fine. If he didn’t want to talk, she could be quiet.

A minute or so later, Bill cleared his throat. “Wes told me you’ve always liked animals.” His gentle tone surprised her.