Page 7

J illian dragged herself out of bed, feeling tense, out of sorts, and still tired. No matter how many pillows she hugged or propped against her lower back, it was getting harder and harder to find a comfortable position in bed.

It wasn’t just the pregnancy wearing her down, though. It was also her marriage. An absent husband wasn’t what she’d signed up for. As much as she loved Dave, part of her was beginning to wonder if she would’ve been better off dating him longer instead of jumping so quickly into married life. Sure, she’d still be pulling the night shift in the ER at the Heart Lake Medical Center, but working there was the demon she was already familiar with.

She didn’t know how much more she could take of living in constant fear for his safety. It was hard not knowing his specific whereabouts or the next time he would call. It was harder than anything she’d ever dealt with. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be the wife of a high-powered criminal lawyer. Poor Dave! He deserved so much better than a cranky wife with bedhead and swollen ankles .

She started her day by tugging on her longest, reddest, fuzziest sweater over her maternity jeans. In the past, Christmas colors had always lifted her spirits. This morning, she found herself shivering in front of the dressing mirror in the closet. The coldness inside her wasn’t the kind of cold that could be chased away by winter sweaters and central heaters.

Maybe coffee will help.

She and Eloise had made a quick grocery run yesterday morning. Their purchases had included no less than five flavors of decaffeinated coffee and tea for the resident pregnant gal.

She yawned and finger combed her hair into a messy ponytail as she shuffled in her sock feet to the kitchen. “Morning, Eloise,” she mumbled. “Have you heard from?—?”

“No. You?” As usual, Eloise had beaten her to the coffeepot. She was seated at the bar, flipping through a stack of manilla folders.

“You’ll be the first to know if I do.” Jillian placed a k-cup in the single-serve coffee dispenser and pushed the start button. She arched her back to stretch it while the steam rising from her cardboard cup brewed her into a better state of mind. It was impossible not to find a teensy sliver of comfort in the warm, rich scent of hazelnut. Or the festive cup painted with glittering gold and silver snowflakes — a leftover from the holidays.

“You mean when you do,” Eloise corrected in a voice as grumpy as Jillian felt. “My son will wrap up his case, and he will call you. You can take that to the bank.”

Jillian reached for a plastic lid for her cup, wishing her mother-in-law didn’t sound like she was trying to convince herself of that. “What are you working on? ”

“I’m butting my nose into places no one asked me to,” she confessed with a sigh. “To be more specific, I called Dave’s secretary yesterday and asked her to send me a copy of all the case files he’s been working on.”

Jillian spun around in astonishment. “And she agreed to do it?” What about attorney-client confidentiality?

“We’ve known each other for years.” Eloise’s voice was smug.

Still doesn’t sound kosher to me, but okay. “What do you need Dave’s case files for?”

“To keep his business afloat until he gets back.” Eloise flicked an impatient look her way, clearly not pleased about having to explain herself. “Many years ago, I worked as a paralegal in the company where I met my first husband.”

Ah. “Dave’s dad.” Jillian spun back around to retrieve her coffee cup from the dispenser. She capped it, added a straw, and joined her mother-in-law at the bar. “It’s really kind of you to help us out like this.” She wasn’t sure Dave would agree, but he wasn’t here to voice his opinion on the matter.

“We’ll see if my efforts do any good.” Eloise pressed her lips into a flat line. “There’s a court hearing scheduled for later in the week that I’m going to have to file for an extension on. He also has an initial consultation with a new client tomorrow morning that I’m trying to decide if I should keep or reschedule.”

Jillian’s eyes widened. “Is it something you’d feel comfortable handling on your own?”

Eloise gave a mirthless chuckle. “Won’t know until I show up. It’s the nature of the beast in this business.” She flicked a finger at the hand-written note in front of her. “If I’m deciphering Dave’s scrawl correctly, it involves a property dispute, which sounds fairly innocuous. I’m not sure why the client, Mr. Edward…” she leaned closer to squint at the last name, “Wagner thinks he needs a criminal lawyer to get involved.”

Jillian forced a smile, trying to follow her mother-in-law’s lead and put on a brave front. “In the wild west movies, a property dispute could cost a man his scalp.”

Eloise chuckled. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“No kidding.” Jillian took her first sip of coffee. “Listen, I don’t think I’ve said this yet, but I really, really, really appreciate you staying in town as long as you have. Though Dave’s home is beautiful, I’m sure it doesn’t hold a candle to the coastal views you’re accustomed to enjoying in Naples.”

“It’s your home now, too.” Eloise glanced up from the paperwork she was browsing through. “The sooner you start yanking open drawers and hanging curtains, the sooner you’ll stop feeling like a visitor here.”

“I can’t.” Jillian gripped her coffee cup tighter. So far, all she’d done was browse a few catalogues and websites and make more shopping lists. However, her heart wasn’t in it.

“Why not?” Eloise demanded sharply.

“I just can’t.” Jillian struggled to put her tangle of emotions into words. “Until I know Dave is alright, my life feels like it’s on hold. Like I can’t fill my lungs all the way with air.” She set down her coffee cup and pressed a hand to her pounding heart. “I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to do this.”

Her mother-in-law studied her in silence for a moment. “I know what you’re going through,” she declared quietly. “I truly do, and I think I have a solution. A temporary one, at least. ”

Tears welled in Jillian’s eyes. “Unless it involves a phone call from Dave…” She shook her head sadly.

Eloise abruptly pushed back her stool. “It involves kicking the mulligrubs aside and getting your mind on something else. You’ll feel better afterward. I promise.”

Her words piqued Jillian’s curiosity. “Okay, I’ll bite. What do you have in mind?” She dabbed the wetness from the edges of her eyes.

Eloise’s expression grew mischievous. “According to the address listed on the property dispute,” she stabbed her forefinger at the folder on the top of the stack in front of her, “Edward Wagner lives next door to you guys.”

“Which side of us?” Though she couldn’t see outside from where she was sitting, Jillian turned toward the kitchen window over the sink. On one side of them was a row of upscale town homes. On the other side was a dilapidated old homestead. The two-story white farmhouse and big red barn sitting partially behind it were in desperate need of a paint job. Plus, there were a few loose shutters on the house that needed straightening and tightening down.

Eloise grunted in derision. “Which side do you think?”

“The old farmhouse it is.” Jillian had never seen anyone come or go from it. If it weren’t for the occasional glow of a lamp through the windows at night, she might’ve assumed it was vacant. “I’m assuming this Mr. Wagner lives alone?”

Eloise smirked. “Yep. According to the questionnaire Dave has every prospective client fill out, the fella is as old and as grumpy as me.”

“Does the file say that?” Jillian stared at her, aghast.

“Nope.” Eloise chuckled, “but my son would if he was in the room.” She picked up the file and fanned it open. “Edward Wagner is seventy-three years seasoned, a retired soldier, and a widower. His wife of fifty- one years died two years ago. Their only child died many years before that in a boating accident up near Anchorage.” She closed the folder. “See what I mean? Old, cranky, and apparently being hounded by the local homeowners’ association.”

“Because of his crooked shutters?” Jillian swallowed a chuckle. Her mother-in-law was right. Being nosy was a lot more fun than sitting around feeling sorry for herself.

“Yes, indeed, but that’s not the underlying cause of their dispute.” Eloise’s gaze took on a wicked gleam of anticipation. “According to Mr. Wagner, the purchase of his home predates the inception of Heart Lake’s most prestigious homeowners’ association, which means the HOA board had no legal grounds for mowing his back pasture without his permission and sending him the bill. Oh, and threatening to put a lien on his place for the laundry list of repairs they claim it needs. Aww,” her voice grew mocking, “the very thought of going head-to-head with a bunch of snooty Heart Lakers is really breaking my heart.”

Jillian rolled her eyes. “Please don’t say that under oath, since we both know your words lack sincerity.”

“Ha!” Eloise burst into one of her noisy cackles. “That’s the nicest way anyone has ever called me a liar.”

“When do we leave?” Jillian smiled despite her tiredness and swollen ankles. She couldn’t help it. Eloise and her shenanigans just had that effect on her.

Eloise pointed at the fridge. “Right after you eat something. I threw together a few jars of refrigerated oatmeal and fruit last night. At the risk of sounding like I’m tooting my flute, they’re delicious. I already ate mine.”

“Toot away.” Jillian was already on her feet, moving toward the fridge. “There’s only one word for an already-made breakfast in my book. Amazing!” She wasn’t accustomed to being waited on, which made her mother-in- law’s pampering feel extra special. Not only was a small mason jar of the promised oatmeal and fruit waiting for her, Eloise had tied a red-and-white checkered ribbon around the lid. “It even matches my sweater.” She pulled it from the fridge and swung it through the air as she carried it to the bar.

Eloise snorted as she left the room, presumably to finish getting ready. “You’re unbelievably easy to please.” Since she spoke the words beneath her breath, Jillian wasn’t sure she was supposed to hear them.

It was the best oatmeal she’d ever tasted, and she was only halfway finished scarfing it down when her mother-in-law returned to the room.

She had her cell phone pressed to her ear, talking in such sharp tones that Jillian was guessing it was Gil.

Poor Gil. She hid a smile as she took another bite.

“Technically, we’re not leaving the driveway,” her mother-in-law declared with asperity. “We’re cutting across our side yard into his side yard.” She let out an exaggerated huff of frustration as she paused to listen. “I’m not sure why I even bothered calling you. Are you always this difficult?” Whatever he said in response made her grin in triumph. “If you really think a little neighborly visit calls for a full military escort, knock yourself out.” She disconnected the line.

“I’m assuming that was Gil?” Jillian waved her next bite at her mother-in-law’s phone.

“Who else?” If anything, Eloise’s grin grew wider.

“You enjoy needling him way too much.” Jillian took another bite of the heavenly oatmeal.

Her mother-in-law shrugged unconcernedly. “It’s his fault for holding us prisoner in your own home. Just because we keep falling in line with his oppressive security details doesn’t mean we have to do it quietly.”

“You’re something else.” Jillian polished off the rest of the oatmeal, rinsed out the jar, and set it in the dishwasher.

“I prefer to keep things interesting.” Eloise tapped a foot impatiently while Jillian disappeared into the mudroom to slip her feet into her shoes and grab her coat. Since they weren’t going far, she decided not to take her purse.

Gil was popping the horn of his Rezvani Tank by the time she returned to the kitchen zipped up and gloved up.

“Time to rock and roll,” Eloise sang out as she danced a little jig toward the front door. She had on a brown leather jacket over skinny jeans and a pair of black sneakers with wedge heels. They were dotted with black rhinestones and boasted metallic gold side zippers. It was an outfit a woman half her age would wear, maybe younger, but she was young enough at heart to pull it off.

Jillian’s maternity clothes and suede ankle boots felt tame in comparison, but she liked her mother-in-law’s pizzazz. She also liked the bounce in her step as they made their way down the wide front porch steps together. The thought popped into her mind that Eloise’s exuberance might have something to do with the fact that they were about to pay a visit to a man her age. A single man her age.

“I should’ve had you grab a water bottle before we stepped outside.” Eloise gave her a raking look of concern as they neared the vehicle. “Need to keep you well hydrated, since you’re carrying my grandchild.”

Her concern sent a welcome burst of toasty warmth to Jillian’s heart. As outspoken and abrasive as her mother-in-law could be, she’d not once said anything negative about her son not being the biological father of Jillian’s child. On the contrary, she’d been everything that was accepting and inclusive of the baby.

Unlike Jillian’s parents and sister, who’d gone out of their way to make her feel like her pregnancy was the biggest mistake of her life…

Gil was waiting for them with the two right passenger doors gallantly pulled open.

Jillian gave him a grateful look. “It’s really kind of you to give us a ride.”

“And completely unnecessary.” Eloise nudged Jillian toward the front seat while she slid into the back passenger seat. “Your drive here took longer than our commute next door will.”

“Not true.” Gil waited until they were buckled in before closing their doors. He hurried around to the driver’s side. “I’m on patrol this morning, so I was already in the neighborhood.”

“Unless you were parked right outside the house,” Eloise sputtered.

“Actually, I was.” He winked at her through his rearview mirror as he drove the very short distance to the neighbor’s house next door. He scowled as he studied the house. “It looks vacant. You sure anyone still lives here?”

“Very sure,” Eloise lifted her chin. “So are you, sheriff. Quit pretending like you didn’t already run a full background check on the guy.”

Gil shot a questioning look at Jillian. “What’s up with you two feeling all neighborly all of a sudden?”

She muffled a chuckle. “You don’t want to know.”

“Actually, I do.” He returned his gaze to her mother-in-law through his rearview mirror.

“We’re working one of Dave’s cases for him,” she informed him haughtily. “Dusting off my paralegal skills to help keep his caseload humming along in his absence.”

Gil’s expression grew thunderous. “I’m going to need a few more details about what you’re getting yourselves into before I open your doors.”

“I can open my own door, thank you very much.” Eloise reached for the handle and rattled it a few times. Her expression grew as thunderous as his. “Are you out of your mind?” she demanded acidly.

He ignored her question. “Eloise, I promised Dave I’d look after you and Jillian, and I intend to keep my word, so start talking.”

Jillian could practically feel the steam rolling out of her mother-in-law’s ears. “It’s a homeowner’s association dispute,” she offered quickly. “Fortunately for Dave’s neighbor, his property purchase predates the inception of the HOA. In a nutshell, a few newly elected board members are overstepping their authority and harassing the snot out of someone they have no right to harass the snot out of.”

Gil’s expression cleared. He tapped the button to pop the locks on their doors. “Go get ‘em, tigers!”

Eloise was livid as she pushed her door open and hopped unassisted to the ground. “So help me, Gil, if you ever pull a stunt like that again…”

“Don’t worry, Eloise. You’ll never see it coming,” he promised with another wink. “Watch this.”

To Jillian’s astonishment, she found herself stepping to the ground in clouds of white smoke. It took her a startled second or two to realize it was being pumped out from beneath the undercarriage of Gil’s vehicle. She waved a hand rapidly in front of her face as she hurried up the sidewalk to the neighbor’s front porch.

Eloise was fanning her face just as furiously as Gil roared off. “The nerve of him,” she seethed. “But that’s okay, because paybacks are?—”

The front door to the farmhouse flew open, interrupting her tirade. A man stepped out with a rifle in hand. He cocked it ominously, though all he did was lower it to his side.

Jillian stopped in mid-step, her mouth falling open as she came face-to-face with her next-door neighbor — a very angry next-door neighbor. He was hatless, coatless, and surprisingly handsome for a man his age. The winter breeze blowing over the lake riffled his dark, silvery hair. However, not so much as a shiver escaped him.

“If you’re from the homeowners’ association, you may as well turn around and crawl right back into whatever hole you slithered out of.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Eloise snapped. “We’re your next-door neighbors. Jillian is, anyway. I live in Naples.” Her tone suggested it was galaxies away from his less than stellar welcome.

His thick eyebrows shot upward. “Lady, I don’t care if they sent you from Narnia. If you think for one second I’m gonna pay some ninny on a brush hog I never hired to give my back field a haircut it didn’t need?—”

“We’re not the ninnies you’re looking for, so save your spleen,” she interrupted with so much energy that Jillian’s heart sank. Her mother-in-law was enjoying the altercation way too much. “We left our white flags at home, but consider them waved. We’re on your side, Mr. Wagner. As a matter of fact, we came to conduct your initial consultation to retain Dave Phillips’ legal representation in the matter. He’s my son,” she explained with a vague flutter of her hand toward their townhome.

Edward Wagner’s glare was replaced by a frown of confusion. “I thought my appointment with him was tomorrow.”

“It was.” Eloise breezed up the front porch steps, beckoning Jillian to follow her.

“With him,” Mr. Wagner added pointedly as she stepped closer, crowding his personal space. To his credit, he stepped aside and allowed her to march past him into his house.

She glared at his rifle as she brushed past him. “I’m beginning to understand why you need a criminal lawyer to settle your dispute with the HOA, Mr. Wagner.”

“Edward,” he called after her with a smirk, “and your name is?”

“Eloise,” she snapped, turning in a full circle to gaze up at the antique chandelier mounted in the entry foyer.

Jillian swallowed nervously as she entered the house. “I’m sorry my husband couldn’t keep his appointment with you. He’s out of town on a difficult case.” She drew a bracing breath. “From what we understand, he’s been ambushed and shot at.” She gave the rifle Mr. Wagner was holding a pointed look. “And otherwise intimidated to scare him off the case. As a result, his return flight has been delayed. In the meantime, my mother-in-law, a highly skilled paralegal, is more than capable of handling your dispute with the HOA.”

Mr. Wagner gave the rifle at his side a guilty glance. “I assure you it’s not loaded, ma’am.” He followed her into the surprisingly clean and well-furnished foyer and set it on a gun rack against the wall. Then he beckoned her and Eloise to follow him into the adjoining den.

Like the entry foyer, it was unexpectedly well kept. Comfortable overstuffed chairs and two gray linen sofas were tastefully arranged on a Navajo area rug. Against the far wall, a stacked stone fireplace rose two full stories, ending in a peak against the vaulted ceiling.

Eloise made no bones about the fact that she was scrutinizing the room up and down, along with its furnishings and eventually its owner. “Why, you old goat,” she accused their reluctant host. “Your home is absolutely lovely. The painting over your fireplace alone is worth a fortune, which means you can well afford to mow your lawn and repair your shutters.” She folded her arms. “So why don’t you?”

Jillian glanced in surprise at the painting. It was a coastal scene in an array of muted colors that made her feel like she was looking through the mist at it. Both the painting and the antique gold frame around it was a tasteful addition to the room.

Their host grunted. “When you said you live in Naples…”

“I was referring to the actual Naples, yes.” Eloise sounded impatient. “Not one of the dusty little towns that likes to borrow fancy-sounding names to make their residents feel more important.” She waved a hand languidly at the painting. “That’s the view right outside my living room window.”

Edward turned his back on them as he strode closer to the painting. “My wife always wanted to visit Italy, but I reckon we waited too long. After she got sick…” He stopped and cleared his throat.

Eloise and Jillian exchanged a sympathetic look behind his back. It went without saying that his wife’s death had likely started him down the path of peeling paint and loosened shutters. They hadn’t merely paid a visit to a cranky neighbor. They’d stormed into the private sanctuary of a grieving one.

“Tell you what,” Eloise offered in a hushed voice. “I’ll write a letter to the HOA that’s guaranteed to send them running for the hills, and I’ll do it for free.”

Edward Wagner swung back in their direction, folding his arms defiantly. “What’s the catch?” Bitterness dripped from his words.

“No catch.” Eloise’s voice was innocent. “However, one neighborly turn deserves another. You’ll owe us dinner. Both of us.” Her gaze landed affectionately on Jillian. “My sweet daughter-in-law has been confined to her home by an overzealous retired sheriff, who fears my son’s current case is putting her in danger. She could use the company.” She shot him such a warm smile that he blinked in astonishment. “Something tells me our overzealous friend will approve of her gun-toting neighbor.”

Edward Wagner let out a heavy breath. “I’m not much of a cook.”

“Fine. Then we’ll eat at her place.” She angled her head toward Jillian and Dave’s townhome. “This evening. Six o’clock. You’re bringing dessert.”

He gave a rusty scrape of laughter and lowered his arms. “Dare I ask what you like, Eloise?”

She wrinkled her nose sourly at him. “I’m not the one who’s pregnant.”