A Home of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #4)(33)
Author: Brenda Novak

Letting the engine idle, Mike lowered his window while he waited for his brother to come close enough to speak.

“What’s wrong, man?” Josh asked, leaning against the door.

Mike slung one arm over the steering wheel in a deliberately careless motion. “Nothing.”

The easygoing grin Josh had worn in the house was gone. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Lucky, does it?”

“Of course not.”

“I can understand you being attracted to her, Mike. I have to admit she’s changed…a lot. But you’re not still seeing her, right? You know how crazy that would be.”

“I’m not still seeing her. I’m not even attracted to her,” Mike said.

Josh studied him a moment longer, then nodded. “Okay, I’ll take your word for it.” With a farewell thump on the truck, he walked away.

Mike cursed under his breath as he drove off. He didn’t lie to his brother often, but he’d lied to him today. He was extremely attracted to Lucky—and the more he tried to ignore it, the worse it got.

LUCKY SHIFTED in the car to better see across the street. Part of her felt like a Peeping Tom, hanging out near Dave Small’s house, hoping for a glimpse of him. The other part believed she could tell a lot about the kind of man he was simply by observing him in his own element.

The front door of the Smalls’ new stucco rambler opened and closed, and a chubby little blond girl wearing a snowsuit hopped into the yard, with a puppy bouncing after her. Dave had to be in his early sixties, so Lucky guessed this was another grandchild. Earlier there’d been several children in the yard.

A woman passed in front of the kitchen window. Lucky squinted, trying to make out whether or not it was the same person who’d arrived with the five kids in a minivan about forty minutes earlier, or if this could be the councilman’s wife. Lucky was almost as curious about Liz Small as she was about Dave. She knew his liaison with her mother was a secret, or there would’ve been some kind of public outcry, so the impression she received of his wife would figure heavily into whether or not she decided to approach him. She wasn’t out to destroy the Smalls’ marriage or break anyone’s heart. She only wanted to answer the biggest question of her life.

The woman at the window was too far away to see clearly. Tempted to pull closer, Lucky put her hand on the ignition, then hesitated when a dark sedan passed her and turned into the drive.

Dave had finally joined the family gathering, she realized when a man stepped out. His hair was now sprinkled with gray, but she recognized his compact body immediately from having seen him around town when she was a child.

He dug around in his back seat, came up with a briefcase and an overcoat and greeted the blond girl who ran over to hug his leg. He looked as though he’d just returned from a long day at the office, but Lucky couldn’t imagine that he’d been working on a Sunday afternoon. Maybe he had some type of social function or he sang in the church choir or something.

She watched him carefully as he piled everything he’d been carrying into one arm so he could lift the girl with the other. As he carried her into the house, she pointed to the puppy, and he waited for the furry little creature to catch up to them before closing the door.

Maybe Booker was wrong about Dave. Dave seemed like a family man. He seemed to care about his grandchildren.

Taking a deep breath, she started her car. It was getting dark; she wasn’t going to see anything else tonight. But she didn’t want to go back to her empty house. At least here in town she could admire the Christmas lights and the plastic Santas and wire reindeer that adorned so many snow-covered lawns.

Maybe she’d drive past Garth Holbrook’s house again. She’d found his address in the phone book, along with Dave Small’s. But when she’d gone by the senator’s place earlier, it had been dark and empty. She hadn’t been able to find a listing for Eugene Thompson. She was just wondering how she might track him down when a knock sounded on her window.

Jumping at the unexpected sound, she turned to see Jon Small standing on the curb next to her car, looking far older than he probably was. Puffy bags beneath his eyes and a belly that was beginning to roll over his belt suggested he drank too much; his hair was thinning and his complexion seemed paler than she remembered.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” he asked, his dark-blond eyebrows knotted into a foreboding slash, his breath misting on the cold air.

Lucky lowered her window and attempted a disarming smile. “I’m out looking at the Christmas lights.”

“Megan said you’ve been sitting here a while.”

“Megan?”

“My sister-in-law.”

“I was watching the children play earlier.” She widened her eyes. “Am I bothering you?”

His expression cleared. “No, not really. Megan was just worried that you might be a child snatcher.” He rolled his eyes. “Like we’ve ever had one of those in Dundee. She watches too much TV.”

“I’m no child abductor,” Lucky said, chuckling. “Actually, I used to live here.”

She could tell he didn’t recognize her.

“I’m Lucky Caldwell.”

Based on their earlier encounter years ago, she braced herself for a negative reaction and was surprised when he merely sized her up. “You’ve gotten real pretty, Lucky.”

“Thank you.”

“You married?”

“No, but if memory serves, you are, right?”

“Not anymore. Leah ran off with the neighbor.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. You have kids, don’t you?”

“Four of ’em. Custody battle hasn’t been easy.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched against the cold. The temperature was dropping rapidly now that the sun had gone down. “Listen, I know I’m a few years older than you are, but if you’re free sometime, maybe we could take in a movie.”

Jon could be her half brother—and she had no interest in him, anyway. “Actually, I can’t,” she said. “I’m not married, but I am in a committed relationship.” Committed to avoid a close relationship.

He shook his head and spit on the sidewalk. “The good ones are always taken.”

“I’m sure someone will come along.” She shifted into Drive. “I guess I’ll get home. It’s pretty chilly.”

“Give me a call if you change your mind.”