He lost his family, but he might save another

Troy Anderson has steered clear of other people since tragedy changed the trajectory of his life. But when Eliza Burke and her children move in next door, he’s unable to ignore the sweet family—especially when it becomes clear there’s more to the house Eliza inherited than anyone suspected. As Troy and Eliza dig up the past, they’ll have to face things they both hoped would stay buried.

CARLA CASSIDY is an award-winning, New York Times bestselling author who has written more than one-hundred-and-twenty novels for Mills & Boon. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance from RT Book Reviews for Anything for Danny. In 1998, she won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from RT Book Reviews. Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write.

Also by Carla Cassidy

Scene of the Crime: Bridgewater, Texas

Scene of the Crime: Bachelor Moon

Scene of the Crime: Widow Creek

Scene of the Crime: Mystic Lake

Scene of the Crime: Black Creek

Scene of the Crime: Deadman’s Bluff

Scene of the Crime: Return to Bachelor Moon

Scene of the Crime: Return to Mystic Lake

Scene of the Crime: Baton Rouge

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Desperate Intentions

Carla Cassidy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09359-0

DESPERATE INTENTIONS

© 2019 Carla Bracale

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

About the Publisher

Prologue

He dug the grave deep...and deeper still, not wanting anyone to ever find it. The moonlight overhead was bright, but at one o’clock in the morning in his own backyard he wasn’t too worried about anyone seeing him.

Troy Anderson leaned against the shovel handle and swiped the sweat that threatened to drip into his eyes. Even though it was the middle of the night, the heat was relentless. August in Kansas City always brought high temperatures and thick humidity.

He stared down into the deep hole he had dug, his emotions curiously numb. The man was dead, setting into motion a plot to murder another man...a man whose death Troy had dreamed about and had yearned for, for a thousand nights.

This was what he’d wanted for three long years. So why didn’t a delirious happiness fill him? Why didn’t a wild anticipation thrum inside him? The man who had destroyed his life and stolen his happiness now had an expiration date, and all that Troy felt was numb.

He swiped his forehead once again and got back to shoveling the hard dirt. His T-shirt clung to his chest and the latex gloves he wore smothered the skin of his hands. He couldn’t wait to get them off.

When he had the hole dug deep enough for his satisfaction, he turned and grabbed the white plastic grocer’s bag on the ground next to him. He pulled out the gun inside and held it for several long minutes in his hand.

It was the weapon he was supposed to use on this night to kill a man named Steven Winthrop. Troy had never met Winthrop, but he knew the man was responsible for the rape and murder of a woman who had just been doing her job in showing a home to a prospective buyer. Winthrop had beat the system and walked away a free man, even though everyone had known he was guilty.

Troy had tossed and turned the night before with the knowledge that he intended to take a man’s life. He intended to commit cold-blooded murder. But it was the only path to the vigilante justice he needed...that he wanted so badly.

He’d awakened that morning with murder in mind only to open the daily newspaper and discover that Steven Winthrop had been murdered the night before. According to the report, the man’s throat had been sliced open in his bedroom.

So Troy would not be required to commit murder for the plan to continue. He had no idea who had owned or used this particular gun before it had appeared in his mailbox with instructions as to the date and time to kill Winthrop. He had no idea how many other murders the gun might be tied to. The serial numbers had been scratched off, but he knew there were now ways and technologies to retrieve the number. He had to get rid of it, and this was the only way he knew how. He dropped the gun into the hole and then shoveled dirt over the top.

He buried the weapon and when he was finished, once again he leaned on the shovel and fought against a bone-deep weariness. He needed to take a long shower and then go to bed. He needed the sweet oblivion of sleep to quiet the demons in his head.

He straightened up and his gaze swept to his neighbor’s big three-story house. He froze. Silhouetted in a second-floor window was somebody. Somebody watching him...somebody who had seen him bury the gun.

Chapter One

“Mommy, I want to wear my pink shoes but I can’t find them,” Katie called from her upstairs bedroom.

“The school bus is going to be here in five minutes. I don’t care what color shoes you wear, but you must have shoes on both feet.” Eliza Burke drew in a deep breath to find patience.

Every morning for the past week since school had started, it was the same chaotic scramble to get both her children on separate school buses. Her daughter, Katie, went to second grade at one school, and her son, Sammy, went on a little yellow bus to the Kansas City school for the blind.

“Katie,” she called up the stairs. “We have to go.” She turned to Sammy, who sat at the kitchen table. “I swear, your sister is going to make me old before my time.”

Sammy giggled. “But we still love her.”

“Yes, we still love her,” Eliza agreed.

“I’m coming,” Katie called. Her footsteps rang out as she came down the stairs. She appeared in the kitchen, a blue shoe on one foot and a pink one on the other. “Shoes on both feet,” she proclaimed proudly. Eliza sighed.

“Grab your lunch bags and let’s head to the bus stop,” she said. “We don’t want to miss the buses.”

Together the three of them left the house. Sammy held her arm more for comfort than for guidance. He had astounded her with his quick acclimation to the new house and neighborhood.

An edge of grief swept through her as his hand warmed her forearm. Sammy had the most beautiful blue eyes with stunning dark lashes, but something had gone wrong and he’d been born without sight. Still, he was smart as a whip and a very happy child.

Katie was her seven-year-old drama queen. She loved fashion and all things with bling. She also loved her younger brother with a fierce intensity. There was only one year between the two and they were very close.

They had just reached the bus stop a block away from the house when Katie’s bus rumbled to a halt before them. With kisses given, she disappeared up the stairs and onto the bus.

Minutes later Sammy was gone as well and Eliza started the walk back home. Home. The unexpected gift of the huge three-story house had been a happy, shocking surprise that had gotten them out of the crummy apartment building where they had been living.

It had been left to her by her ex-husband’s grandfather, a man Eliza had barely known. But it was paid off, and a month ago she and the children had moved in.

She entered the house and went directly to the kitchen to check on the slow cooker meal she’d started an hour earlier. She could already smell the chicken and tomatoes cooking.

She then went into the room that was now her office. It was an odd-shaped room, as many of them were in the big home. This one was a disproportional octagon.

She grabbed a hair tie and pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail atop her head, and then sat at the desk. When Sammy was two years old her husband, Blake, had left her...had left them.

She’d desperately needed a job and yet also needed to be home to take care of a blind child. That was when she’d begun her web design business, and thankfully it had flourished and grown to the point she was able to keep up with the bills and see that her children were well-fed and clothed.

Of course moving into this house where there was no rent or mortgage was going to help out tremendously. Not only did she need to start saving for college for the kids, she also wanted to get Sammy a guide dog when he turned sixteen. For the first time since Blake had walked out on them she had the real hope that those things would happen.

However, nothing was going to happen if she didn’t get down to work right now. Mentally shoving her thoughts of her children away, she opened up her email. Reading her email had become an unpleasant task since Leon Whitaker had entered her life. Today was no different. There were three emails and two texts from the man threatening to destroy her life.

She sighed, wondering when Leon would finally move on and leave her alone. She deleted them, and at the same time her doorbell rang. She jumped up and hurried to answer.

She opened the door to find her smoking-hot next-door neighbor standing on the porch. She hadn’t officially met him yet, but had watched him mowing his lawn on more than one occasion, his broad bare back gleaming in the sunshine.

“Hi.” He smiled, showing teeth that were straight and white. He set down the large flowering plant he held in one arm. “I thought it was about time I came over to officially introduce myself and welcome you to the neighborhood. I’m Troy Anderson.”

“Hi, I’m Eliza... Eliza Burke.” She looked down at the plant. “It’s gorgeous.” Huge flowers in a beautiful shade of deep pink adorned the sturdy green stalks. She fought the impulse to reach up and do something with her messy hair.

“It’s a peony. I thought it might look nice right there next to your porch.” He pointed to a bare spot and then looked at her expectantly.

“What a nice thought. Uh, would you like to sit and have a cup of coffee?” She gestured to the porch swing. It would be nice to get to know her neighbor, although it would be much more comfortable if he weren’t so darned good-looking. A wild flutter of butterflies had taken wing in her chest the moment he’d first smiled at her.

“I’d love a cup of coffee,” he replied. He stepped past her, trailing the scent of sunshine and an attractive woodsy cologne on his way to the swing.

“Uh, I’ll be right back.” She stepped back inside and locked the door behind her. She never lost track of the fact that she was a woman living here only with her two small children.

While Troy appeared to be a decent, law-abiding citizen, she didn’t feel comfortable enough to invite him inside, at least not yet. Still, it had been very nice of him to come over and bring the plant.

Darn, she should have asked him if he used cream or sugar in his coffee. She placed a pod in the coffee machine and waited for it to whoosh out Colombian caffeine into the mug.

When it was finished she hurried back outside. “I didn’t think to ask you if you wanted anything in your coffee.”

“Black is fine,” he assured her as he took the cup from her. She sank down in a nearby wicker chair.

“So, I’ve seen some children in your backyard,” he said.

“Yes, Sammy and Katie.” She couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips as she thought of her children. “Katie is seven and Sammy is six.”

“And Mr. Burke?” His eyes were an intense blue as they held her gaze.

“There is no Mr. Burke,” she replied, deciding to be honest. Thoughts of Blake always made her angry and sad at the same time. “What about you? Is there a Mrs. Anderson?”

“No, I’m divorced. No wife and no children.” A darkness crept into his eyes. It was there only a moment and then vanquished by another one of his heart-stopping smiles. “So, Ms. Eliza Burke, what do you do for a living? the nosy neighbor asked.” He raised his cup to his lips and took a sip.

“I have my own web design business,” she said. “And I assume you’re Troy Anderson as in Anderson Lawn and Landscaping. I’ve seen your truck parked in front of your house.”

The butterflies continued to fly. What on earth was wrong with her? She hadn’t had that kind of a reaction to a man for years.

“That’s me,” he replied. “Maybe we can trade services. I’ll take care of your lawn and you can update my website.”

“I’m sure we can work something out.” Actually she hadn’t thought about the lawn, since right now everything was summer brown and needed no tending.

“And I’ll be glad to plant the peony for you.”

“That’s too kind of you,” she protested.

“Nonsense, I brought it, so I’ll plant it. I’ll get it taken care of sometime tomorrow.” He took another sip of the coffee. “I couldn’t help but notice when you opened your door that something in there smells wonderful,” he said.

“I’ve got chicken cacciatore in the Crock-Pot.”

“Oh, that’s one of my favorite dishes.” Once again he appeared to be looking at her in expectation.

“If you’d like to join us this evening we usually sit down to eat around five.” The words were out of her mouth before she realized she was going to speak them.

“That sounds great. I’d love to join you.” He took another drink of his coffee and then stood and walked toward her to hand her the cup. “I should get going, but I look forward to seeing you again this evening, Eliza. Thanks so much for the coffee and the invitation.”

She stood and watched him until he disappeared into his house. Only then did she turn and go back inside. She returned to her desk and frowned thoughtfully. The short conversation had been rather strained and she felt strangely manipulated into the dinner invitation...and strangely excited at the same time.

* * *

TROY HEADED BACK to his house, his mind working overtime to process what he’d just learned. Eliza Burke was definitely a stunner. Her dark hair pulled up in the ponytail had showcased beautiful gray eyes and prominent cheekbones.

But he hadn’t gone over there to check out the physical attributes of the new neighbor. He needed to find out who had stood in the upstairs window and watched him bury the gun. He now knew she didn’t have a husband, but was another adult living with her? Was there somebody else besides her and the two children in the house? Somebody who had seen what he had done?

Worming his way into a dinner invitation had been absolutely perfect. Hopefully he’d know tonight what had been seen and by whom. In the meantime he had other concerns whirling around in his head.

Somebody had killed Steven Winthrop and that meant somebody was playing by their own set of rules. He knew Nick Simon had encountered a similar problem and even though it was against the terms they had all set up among themselves, Troy wanted to meet with Nick.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched in Nick’s phone number. Nick answered on the second ring. “Nick, it’s Troy.”

There was a long pause and Troy knew he was probably the last man on earth Nick wanted to hear from right now. “Hey,” Nick finally replied, his voice obviously strained.

“I want to meet with you,” Troy said.

Again a long pause followed. “Do you think it’s really necessary?”

“I think it is,” Troy replied. “Please, Nick.”

A deep sigh filled the line. “When?”

“Now, if possible.”

“I’ll meet you in thirty minutes at the usual place,” Nick said, and then hung up.

Five minutes later Troy was in his work truck and headed to the old abandoned baseball field where the six men had plotted a murder scheme that would assure each of them both vengeance and the justice that had been denied.

As he approached his destination, tension bunched his shoulders and he gripped the steering wheel more tightly. He couldn’t come here without thinking of Annie, and thoughts of her always brought forth a deep grief, a hollow emptiness and also a rage tempered only a little bit by the passing of time.

Knee-high weeds greeted him as he stepped out of the truck. Nature was in the process of taking back the land that had once been filled with a ball field and little baseball players.

The wooden bleachers in the distance leaned to one side, broken and bleached almost white from the summer sun. A snack shed was spray-painted with a variety of words in different colors. Even that paint had faded, attesting to the forgotten nature of the property.

He walked toward the thick stand of trees in the distance. It was there next to a fallen tree that a plot for murder had been hatched among six grieving, angry men.

They had met two years ago at a group meeting for survivors. All six of them had a couple of things in common. The first was that the perpetrators who had committed horrendous crimes against their loved ones had walked away free men due to glitches in their cases. The second thing they all had in common was a killing rage and a desperate and hungry need for justice.

They had set up a plan for each of them to kill another man’s perpetrator. They each would be killing a man who had absolutely nothing to do with them, hopefully assuring that they all stayed under law enforcement’s scrutiny.

Troy now headed into the woods. Even in the shade it was hot, and insects buzzed angrily as if to protest Troy’s presence in their domain. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to think about the crime that had brought him here. But it concerned him that one of the six was apparently acting alone, and that hadn’t been the plan.

He sat on the fallen log to wait for Nick and tried to keep his mind empty, but it was impossible. Surprisingly it wasn’t thoughts of murder, but rather thoughts of his neighbor Eliza Burke that intruded in his head.

It had been a long time since Troy had really noticed any woman. After his wife had walked out on him three years before, he’d had no interest in any kind of a relationship.

However, Eliza Burke had stirred him on a level he’d thought was long dead. She’d sparked something inside him he hadn’t felt for a very long time. Not that anything would come of it. He wouldn’t allow anything to come of it even if she was interested in him.

He just wanted to know who in her house might have seen him last night. He’d join her for dinner and see if he got the answer. Once that question was answered, he would be done with her.

Before he had time to really process anything more, Nick appeared. The tall, dark-haired man wore a deep frown. “What’s up?” He leaned against a nearby tree as if not wanting to get too close to Troy.

“I was supposed to kill Winthrop last night, but somebody got to him before me.”

Nick grimaced. “Just like what happened to me.”

“Somebody has gone rogue and it’s got me worried.”

“Look, I don’t want anything to do with this,” Nick protested. “I’ve moved on. I’m in love with a wonderful woman and we’re planning a wedding.”

“I know you don’t want to be involved in this, but you are,” Troy replied evenly. “Doesn’t it bother you that one of us is acting alone? Do you have any idea who it might be?”

Nick frowned again. “Adam is the one who planned all this. Maybe he just decided to take things into his own hands.”

Adam Kincaid was one of the six men who had taken the lead and was in charge of the logistics of the plan. His wife had been murdered at a drive-through ATM where she had just withdrawn two hundred dollars. A drug-addicted man had yanked her out of the car and had stabbed her to death to get the cash. The case had ended in a hung jury and the prosecutor had decided not to retry the case.

“If that’s true, then you know what that makes all of the rest of us? Liabilities,” Troy said.

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think he’d come after one of us?”

Troy released a deep sigh. “I don’t know what to think. I just wanted you to know that somebody isn’t playing by the rules we all set up, although I have to admit I was kind of relieved to wake up yesterday morning and realize I didn’t have to kill a man.”

“Yeah, I felt the same way when my target was already dead when I went to his house to kill him.” Nick’s frown appeared once again and his eyes darkened. “I’ve got to tell you, man, that was a bad scene. Whoever killed Brian McDowell enjoyed it. His throat was slit, and that takes a special kind of killer. There was also a carving in his forehead. It looked like a V.”

Tension once again tugged at Troy’s shoulders. “V for vengeance? For vigilante?”

“Could be either, or maybe it was just a coincidence that it looked like a V. But who does that? Who carves up a man’s forehead after slitting his throat?”

“Hell if I know. So, what do we do about it?”

“Nothing. I told all of you before that I’m out of it. I feel like I made a pact with the devil when I got involved in this crazy scheme,” Nick replied.

Troy studied him for a long moment. “How did you feel this morning when you woke up and read that the man who raped and killed your wife was dead?”

“Nothing,” Nick replied. “I felt nothing. My wife was still dead and Winthrop’s murder didn’t change that. I’m building a new life for myself and that’s all that matters to me now.” He straightened from the tree trunk. “I hope nothing more comes of this, Troy, but in any case, please lose my number forever.”

Nick turned and left the small clearing. Troy remained on the log, trying to figure out what in the hell he had hoped to accomplish by meeting with Nick. Maybe he’d just needed somebody else to know.

Troy didn’t want to think about the pact anymore. He knew somebody was going to kill Dwight Weatherby. Troy definitely wanted that man dead, and he wasn’t about to do a damned thing to stop that from happening.

And that made him a bad man.

Chapter Two

Nervous energy filled Eliza as she set the table for the evening meal with an extra plate. Would he show up for dinner? On the off chance he would she’d changed into a nicer pair of black skinny jeans and a lavender blouse that she knew complemented her gray eyes. She’d also let her hair down and it now fell around her shoulders in soft waves.

She was a fool to be going to so much trouble, she’d thought as she’d applied a little more mascara and then a dash of pink lip gloss.

It wasn’t like she was looking for romance. When Blake had left her she’d pretty much put that part of herself away forever. Besides, she was hardly an attractive package for any man to take on, considering the fact that she had two young children and one of them was blind.

Tonight wasn’t about romance. It was about learning a little bit about the man who was her neighbor. She didn’t know about him, but she intended to be in this house for a very long time. Building good neighbor relationships couldn’t be a bad thing.

“Mom, come and look what Sammy found,” Katie called from the living room.

Eliza pulled garlic bread out of the oven and then went to check on the children. “What did you find, Sammy?” she asked.

He ran his fingers along the white wainscoting and a panel popped open, revealing a space big enough for the two of them to stand in. “It’s a secret hiding spot,” he said.

“Would you look at that,” Eliza said in amazement, although this wasn’t the first surprise the house had given up. Two weeks after moving in, Sammy had found a hidden stairway that went from Katie’s room down to the kitchen pantry.

“That is a great hiding place,” she said. She stepped inside to make sure there was nothing dangerous in the space. “It could be your very own secret hideaway. But right now I want you two to wash your hands and faces for dinner. It’s possible we might have a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Katie’s face lit up. “Who is it? Ms. Lucy?”

“Not Ms. Lucy. Our neighbor might come to eat with us. Now go get cleaned up. Dinner is going to be on the table in about three minutes.” As the two headed for the bathroom, Eliza returned to the kitchen.

The clock on the oven read seven minutes until five. It was very possible he wouldn’t show up at all and that was okay with her. The whole thing had been rather strange to begin with.

The food was on the table and the children had just been seated when the doorbell rang. “Wait here, I’ll be right back,” she said, and tried to ignore the bolt of anticipation that leaped into the pit of her stomach.

He stood on the front porch with his sexy smile and the sun gleaming on his slightly shaggy dark hair. His jeans hugged his slender hips and emphasized his broad chest beneath a light blue cotton shirt. “I hope I’m not too late. I got held up at work.” He thrust a bottle of red wine toward her.

“Actually, you’re just in time,” she replied, and took the wine from him. “You didn’t have to do that,” she added as she gestured him inside. She led him into the kitchen. “Sammy and Katie, this is our neighbor, Mr. Anderson.”

“I know you. You buried treasure in your backyard in the middle of the night last night,” Katie said with a wide smile. “I love treasure.”

He rocked back on his heels and Eliza could swear his handsome face paled. Then he laughed. “Oh, honey, that was no treasure. Unfortunately I found a dead cat in my yard and I had to bury it.”

“And what were you doing up in the middle of the night, young lady?” Eliza asked her daughter.

“I woked up and went into Sammy’s room ’cause I thought he might have a nightmare,” Katie said. She batted long dark lashes. “You know I don’t want Sammy to ever get scared.”

Eliza turned to her guest. “Please, have a seat, Troy.” She gestured to the chair at the head of the table.

They began to fill their plates. “Why did the cat die?” Katie asked once everyone had been served.

“I don’t know,” Troy replied.

“Chicken at six, bread at three and salad at nine,” Eliza murmured softly to Sammy.

Troy looked at Sammy and then gazed at Eliza. She knew at that moment he’d realized Sammy was blind. He cleared his throat and then cast her a smile that warmed her from head to toe.

“My daddy died,” Katie said. “So my daddy and that cat are both in heaven together.”

“Did your dad like cats?” Troy asked.

Katie looked at Eliza. “Did he, Mom?”

“I’m sure he did,” Eliza replied. She never wanted her children to know how much she’d come to hate their father during the time before he’d walked out on them. He had died less than a year later in a motorcycle accident in Florida.

“So, tell me about your landscaping business,” she said to Troy in an effort to engage him and change the subject.

“It started with just me, a truck and a lawn mower,” he said. “I’ve always enjoyed yard work, and I now have ten trucks and a crew of men and women who work for me.”

“Wow, that’s impressive.”

“I’ve been lucky in scoring a lot of big commercial jobs. By the way, this chicken is delicious.”

“Thank you,” she replied.

“Mom is a great cook,” Sammy said.

“And she’s pretty. Don’t you think she’s very pretty, Mr. Anderson?” Katie asked with a winsome smile.

“Katie,” Eliza said with a blush creeping warmth into her cheeks.

Troy laughed. “Yes, Katie, your mother is very pretty.”

The rest of the meal passed with the children chattering about their schools and their favorite playtime activities. Eliza was acutely aware of Troy’s presence, far too aware since he was just a neighbor who had joined them for a meal.

She was also particularly proud of her children, who displayed good manners throughout the meal.

“Is your house as crazy as this one?” Sammy asked.

“What do you mean by crazy?” Troy asked.

“I found a secret hidey-hole in the living room and a secret stairway in Katie’s bedroom that comes down into the kitchen pantry,” he replied.

Troy looked at Eliza. “It’s true,” she said. “The house does appear to have a lot of secrets.”

“I wanna find some buried treasure,” Katie piped up. “I love treasure, ’specially if it sparkles.”

Eliza and Troy laughed. “Is that why you bought the house? To look for buried treasure?”

She laughed again. “Not hardly, and we didn’t buy the house, we inherited it. It was left to us by my late husband’s grandfather when he passed away a couple of months ago. I have to admit it was quite a surprise.”

“I wondered why a for-sale sign didn’t go up when Frank passed away,” Troy replied.

By that time everyone had finished eating and the children asked to be excused to go watch television. “I insist on helping with the cleanup,” Troy said.

“And I insist you don’t,” she replied. “Why don’t I make you a cup of coffee and you can sit and talk to me while I handle the cleanup?”

“Okay, if you insist,” he replied easily.

Minutes later with a cup of coffee before him, Troy told her a little bit more about his business. His father had bought him his first lawn mower when he was ten years old and had encouraged him to become a little entrepreneur.

“I never thought about doing anything else,” he said. “I love working outside and helping people transform their landscaping from something ugly into something beautiful.”

“It’s always nice to love what you do,” she replied.

“I take it you love what you do.” He eyed her over the rim of the coffee cup.

“Most of the time, unless I get a crazy client. I’ve got a man now who is sending me dozens of nasty texts and emails a day over a project.”

His eyes widened. “Why?”

She put the leftover chicken in the refrigerator and then turned to face him. “I agreed to build a web page for him and then realized halfway into it that it was going to be a pornographic site, and so I backed out of the deal. I refunded the initial money he gave to me and thought that would be the end of it, but he’s been harassing me for weeks now.”

“Have you called the police to report him?” Troy asked.

“Oh no, it hasn’t risen to that kind of a level. It’s just a nuisance.”

“I know it’s just you and the kids here. If anything does ever get out of hand with him just remember I’m right next door.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that. You don’t happen to know a good exterminator, do you? I think we might have a mouse problem. The kids and I are hearing some rustling behind the walls at night.”

“Actually, I do. Mike the Mighty Mouseman.”

She grinned. “Is that for real?”

He laughed and shook his head. “It’s for real. He’s a friend of mine. We went to school together and have remained good friends. Do you want me to give you his number?”

“Please.” She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and punched in the number he rattled off.

“Let me give you my number, too,” he said. He pulled out his cell phone. “And I’d like yours, if that’s okay. It’s always good to have a neighbor’s phone number.”

They exchanged phone numbers and he returned to drinking his coffee. “You should like the neighborhood. It’s a quiet one.”

“After living in a noisy apartment complex, quiet is good,” she replied.

“Most of the people are older and have lived here for years. I haven’t met many, but the ones I have met have been very nice.”

“That’s good to know,” she replied. “I guess the house on the other side of me is empty. I noticed a moving van there last week and then a for-sale sign in front of it the other day.”

He nodded. “The Fosters. They were an older couple. They decided the house was too big for the two of them.”

“They are big houses,” she replied. “I don’t know what to do with half the space I have here.”

“I’m using a couple of rooms upstairs strictly for storage.” He finished the last of his coffee and then rose from the table. “I guess I’d better get out of your hair. This has been very pleasant. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming,” she replied. “It’s always nice to know your neighbors.” Together they walked to the front door. It had been pleasant. It had been a long time since she’d had an evening of adult conversation, and it hadn’t hurt that he was so darned easy to look at.

Two hours later she sat on the edge of Katie’s bed to tuck her in for the night. “No sneaking into your brother’s room in the middle of the night,” she said, and swiped a strand of long dark hair away from Katie’s face.

“But what if I wake up in the middle of the night and I think maybe he’s having a nightmare?” Katie’s gray eyes darkened. “I don’t ever want Sammy to be scared.”

“And I appreciate you looking after Sammy so well. But your brother will call to me if he has a nightmare and gets scared,” Eliza said, “and all princesses need to stay in bed and get their rest through the night.”

“And I am a princess,” Katie replied firmly.

“Absolutely, you’re my little special princess.” Eliza leaned over and kissed her daughter on the cheek. “Good night, sweetheart.”

“Night, Mommy.”

Eliza rose from the bed and turned out the overhead light, then walked across the hall into Sammy’s bedroom. His twin bed was pushed against one wall and his dresser was against another. There was nothing on the floor to impede him in his world of darkness.

He knew how many steps to the bathroom and how many to the top of the stairs. She had wanted to put his bedroom downstairs, but he’d insisted he wanted to be up here where his sister’s room was. He was such an amazing little guy, and she was blessed to be his mother.

Sammy never complained about any nightmares. Eliza had a feeling Katie sometimes had bad dreams and went into her brother’s bedroom for comfort.

She sat on the edge of his bed and he smiled. “Are you ready for sweet dreams?” she asked.

“As long as the mice stay quiet.”

“We’re going to take care of those noisy, pesky mice very soon,” she replied. “In the meantime I want you to have sweet dreams and I’ll see you in the morning. It’s Saturday so you can sleep in if you want.”

“I think I might want to,” he replied.

She kissed him and then with final good-nights said, she left his room and headed for her own.

This big old house still didn’t feel like home to her, but it would just take more time. At least Sammy had adapted easily, and initially that had been her biggest concern. As she changed into her nightgown, her thoughts filled with Troy Anderson.

Lordy, but the man was hot and he’d seemed to be genuinely nice. He’d been especially good with Sammy, not talking to him like he was stupid or raising his voice like Sammy was deaf as well as blind.

She got into bed and shut off her light. It had been nice to have a man to share a meal and pleasant conversation. Still, it didn’t matter whether he had given her dancing butterflies or not. She’d felt those same kind of dancing butterflies when she’d first met Blake and that had certainly ended badly.

She released a deep sigh and hoped the mice would stay silent tonight.

* * *

TROY PARKED HIS work truck in the driveway and released a weary sigh. Even though it was just a little after three, it had been a long day.

Two of his men hadn’t shown up for work that morning. Thankfully the jobs had been residential mows and trimming, so Troy had taken care of them himself. But this was the third time the two had missed an early Saturday morning job and now he needed to decide if they needed to be let go.

Troy always hated firing anyone, but he did expect his employees to be dependable. Thankfully the men were young and unmarried, so at least Troy didn’t have to worry about them having families they were supporting.

He got out of his truck and glanced next door. Instantly a bit of adrenaline filled him as he thought of Eliza. There was no question he found her intensely physically attractive. He’d also found her charming and nice, but he hadn’t missed a few times when her beautiful gray eyes darkened with emotions that had intrigued him. He was also impressed by her strength. It must be tough to be a single mother of two young kids, especially with one of them being blind.

He’d said he’d plant the peony bush, and he was vaguely surprised to realize the idea of seeing Eliza again today swept a pleasant warmth through him. He should plant it right now before he took a shower and cleaned up. But first what he wanted to do before anything else was go inside and get a tall glass of something cold to drink.

He walked into his hallway of gleaming wood floors. He’d bought the big three-story house a year and a half ago. It had needed a ton of work, but he’d been looking for a new start and the remodeling had been a project he’d desperately needed to take his mind away from the torment of his past.

He’d stripped floors and painted walls. He’d updated the bathrooms and had all the windows replaced. He’d considered every dollar he spent and all his sweat and hard work a good investment. And the work had definitely kept him from losing his mind.

The kitchen had been updated with all the bells and whistles. As he headed toward the refrigerator he glanced out the back window...and froze.

The two kids, Katie and Sammy, were in his yard and standing over the place where he’d buried the gun. What the hell? What were they doing in his yard, in that place? Thirst forgotten, he ran toward the back door.

He unlocked it and flung it open, and at the same time Eliza appeared, running toward her children. “Katie! Sammy! What on earth are you doing over here?” She flashed him an apologetic glance and then glared at her children once again. “You both know the rules. You are never, ever to leave the house without telling me. And you especially should not be over here in Mr. Anderson’s yard. What were the two of you thinking?”

“We just wanted to have a funeral for the dead cat,” Katie said, her lower lip trembling ominously as she looked first at her mother and then at Troy.

“We’re sorry, Mommy,” Sammy said. “We thought it would be good to have a cat funeral.”

For the first time Troy realized Katie was wearing what appeared to be a black dress that belonged to her mother and Sammy wore some kind of a black curtain draped over his shoulders. Katie held a small bouquet of plastic flowers and Sammy held a cardboard sign that read RIP Cat.

Jeez, the kids wanted to have a funeral for the cat that didn’t exist. What damned can of worms had he opened with his lie about the cat? He frowned thoughtfully. Maybe by allowing them to do this, they’d forget they saw him bury anything out here.

“It’s all right,” Troy said to Eliza. “Every dead cat should have a funeral.”

Eliza looked charmingly flustered. Her cheeks were flushed as she blew a strand of hair off her face. The grateful look she gave him warmed him.

“Okay, you can have a funeral, but when we get home there are going to be consequences for you breaking the rules,” she said to her children. “And you can thank Mr. Anderson for not chasing you out of his yard with a broom.”

“Thank you, Mr. Anderson,” Katie said with a sweet smile that suddenly reminded him of Annie.

For a brief moment a deep, rich pain ripped through his very soul. Thankfully at that moment Katie instructed them all to close their eyes. He squeezed his eyelids closed and tried to will away the memories that attempted to assault him.

He’d spent the last three years of his life trying not to remember, because remembering had the power to cast him to his knees in the very depths of hell. He drew several long, deep breaths and managed to snap himself out of the past.

“We come together to say goodbye to Cat,” Katie began.

“We decided that Cat was a good name since we didn’t know his real name,” Sammy added. “Mr. Anderson, was Cat a boy or a girl?”

“A boy,” Troy replied.

“We all pray for boy Cat to go straight to heaven where the trees are made of catnip and cats are happy all the time,” Katie said. “We can open our eyes now.”

He opened to see Katie bending down and placing the little flower bouquet on the ground. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. I don’t know what that means but they always say it at funerals,” Katie said. She turned toward her brother and took the makeshift cardboard tombstone from him. “We don’t know why people write RIP on tombstones, but we’ve seen it in movies so we wrote RIP Cat.”

“It stands for rest in peace. You know, that sign is going to get all wet when it rains and it won’t take much time for the writing to fade. Why don’t I buy a nice birdbath to put here?” Troy said. “Cats like birds.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful,” Katie exclaimed, and jumped up and down with excitement.

“Troy, you don’t have to do that,” Eliza protested.

“It’s all right,” he assured her. “I’ve been wanting a birdbath out here anyway.” And he hoped that placing a birdbath there would halt any further interest in the “dead cat.”

“That’s the end of the funeral,” Sammy said.

“And the beginning of your consequences.” Eliza pointed toward her house. “I want you two to march yourselves right back home and go to your rooms. We’ll discuss your punishment when I get back inside.”

When the children were out of earshot she turned to look at Troy. “I’m so sorry. I promise you they have never done anything like this before.”

“It’s okay. Have they been to a lot of funerals?” he asked.

“Not a one, which makes me question what they’ve been watching on television when I’m not paying attention. Anyway, I apologize once again and I certainly don’t expect you to go out and buy a birdbath.”

“Actually, they just prodded me to do something I’d been thinking about doing for some time.” She looked so pretty with the sunshine playing in the dark strands of her hair and her eyes the gray of a dove’s wing. Did her eyes darken to a smoky gray when she was in the throes of passion?

The totally inappropriate thought shocked him and he mentally shook himself. “If it’s okay with you I thought I’d grab my shovel and plant that peony.” Maybe a little physical activity would stop any more lustful thoughts he entertained about his pretty neighbor.

“That would be wonderful. In the meantime I need to get back inside to hand out punishments,” she replied.

“Don’t be too hard on them.”

She flashed him a brilliant smile that warmed him more than the summer sun overhead. “I’m never too hard on them. I like to think I’m fair.”

“Fair is always good. I’ll be in your front yard in just a few minutes.”

He watched her as she walked back toward her house, unable to help but notice the slight sway of her shapely hips. Damn, but she was one fine-looking woman.

As she disappeared from view he frowned and headed back into his house. In the kitchen, he fixed himself a tall glass of lemonade and then after drinking it headed to the garage for a shovel.

His feelings toward Eliza disturbed him. Throughout nine years of marriage he’d never had lustful thoughts for any woman except his wife. Since Sherry had walked out on him almost three years before, he’d never had any inappropriate thoughts about another woman.

So why now? And why Eliza? He certainly wasn’t looking for any kind of a relationship, especially with a woman who had children. All he’d wanted to do was find out who, in her house, had seen him bury the gun. He had his answer and so that should be the end of things.

But there was a part of him that didn’t want it to be the end of things. He needed to ignore that part...as soon as he planted the bush. He needed to keep his distance from his lovely, single neighbor.

He grabbed his shovel and then headed across the yard to her front porch, where the plant remained where he had left it the day before.

There had been no rain for the past two weeks and the ground was hard as a rock. What he needed was a garden hose, not only to soften the dirt but also to water the bush once it had been placed in the ground.

Looking around, he spied a faucet to connect one, but none was in sight. He knocked lightly on the front door. “Do you have a water hose?” he asked when she answered.

She frowned, a delicate gesture that didn’t detract from her overall loveliness. “No, I don’t.”

“Not a problem, I’ll go grab one of mine. I just wanted to let you know I’m going to turn on the water out here.”

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything,” she replied.

A kiss would be nice, a little voice whispered in his head. Jeez, what in the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t want a kiss from Eliza. All he wanted from her was a good, friendly neighbor kind of relationship and for her kids to forget about the “dead cat” in his backyard.

It took him nearly a half an hour to dig the hole deep enough. He placed the plant in the hole, shoveled soil all around it and then stood holding the hose over it so that it could get enough water to get a healthy start.

He was just about to finish up when the door opened and she stepped outside with a big glass of iced tea in her hand. “I thought you might need something cold to drink right about now.”

“Thanks.” He took the glass from her and swallowed a deep drink.

“It’s so blazing hot out here,” she said.

What was blazing hot was Eliza clad in a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a sleeveless pink blouse. “I’m used to the heat,” he replied. “The peony should really do well here,” he said in an effort to get his brain on the right path.

“All I know is it’s really pretty right now and I thank you for it once again.”

“Do your kids like pizza?”

“They love it.” There was a touch of puzzlement in her eyes.

“I was wondering if I could take you and them out for some pizza on Friday night.” Criminy, when had he been wondering that? What in the hell was happening to him? It was as if his mouth was working independent of his brain.

“Oh...that...that would be nice.” The puzzlement in her eyes turned into pleasure.

He turned off the nozzle on the hose. “What time is good for you all?”

“Any time after four. That’s when the kids get home from school.”

“Then why don’t we say about five?”

“Perfect.” She gave him that smile that made him feel like he’d swallowed the sun.

“Okay, I’ll just wrap up this hose and then I’ll see you on Friday night.”

Minutes later he walked across the lawn to his garage and put his shovel and the hose inside. He then went into the house and directly to the master bath. It was only when he was standing beneath a hot spray of water that he was able to fully process what had happened. He’d just made a date with the neighbor.