Page 14 of Dangerous December
But it was too late.
In a flurry of retro-hippie scarves and beads, Maura came around the corner of a bookshelf clutching a large hardback on organic gardening.
Her mouth fell open, then her eyes narrowed.“Devlin,”she exclaimed, her voice low and bitter as she looked between Beth and her nemesis, then pinned her glare on Dev.
“Mom,please,” Beth pleaded.
“How can he have theaudacityto come in here?”
“I think I’d better go,” Dev said in a low voice. He turned to leave. “No sense in making anyone upset.”
Beth watched him go, her heart heavy. Maura had been against their marriage from day one, proclaiming that it was a terrible mistake.
Ever the champion for her two daughters, she’d later pinned all blame for the divorce on Dev’s shoulders. Her heart had truly turned to stone over what happened after that, and Beth knew her mother would never, ever forgive him.
But the clock was already ticking on the situation with the Sloane House boarders. There was a lot of work to do with no time to waste, and much of it was going to involve Dev.
It was going to be hard enough as it was, and now Beth could only pray that she could keep her mother and Dev apart until at least one of them left town.
CHAPTER FIVE
Beth stood at the open door of her car and watched Dev park his late father’s Jeep behind her bumper, hoping her mother’s outburst hadn’t irreparably damaged their tenuous truce.
Maura retreated into troubled silence on the topic of Dev after their encounter on Friday night.
And since Dev had never been one for emotional scenes, preferring a stony retreat to fanning the flames of an argument, it wasn’t likely the two of them would ever come to any level of understanding even if they did run into each other again.
Beth had hoped to see him at church this morning for a chance to talk, but that he hadn’t shown up wasn’t a surprise.
As a teenager, he’d attended rarely and probably under duress, though his parents had been pillars of the community and staunch members of the church.
An old memory surfaced of the first Sunday after Beth’s family had moved to town. She’d been a high school sophomore and could still remember seeing the dark, brooding teenager in a pew with his parents.
He’d been tall, dark, and impossibly handsome. But that raw, youthful appeal had nothing on what he’d become...six feet of solid muscle, with an aura of strength, even when he was standing still.
She’d never known exactly what he did in the Marines, but had no doubt that he completed his missions with the kind of intense, lethal power that allowed nothing to stand in his way.
Now, he climbed out of his vehicle, clearly favoring his injured shoulder, and started up the walk leading to the two-story brick home where he’d grown up.
He paused to stare at the discreet, forest-green sign over the porch steps with Sloane House written in fanciful gilt letters.
There was no warmth in the firm set of his jaw or the flinty expression in his eyes when he spared a brief nod in her direction.
“Cool wheels,” she called out as she closed her car door.
“What?”
Belatedly remembering that he might not hear her clearly, she spoke louder. “The Jeep. It sure brings back memories.”
“Dad’s house calls,” he said on a long sigh.
Clutching a leather folder to her chest, she caught up with him at the front steps. “He had to be the last of a dying breed. He was such an institution around here.”
“A real hero, all right.”
Though from the lack of emotion in Dev’s voice, he’d been one to everyone but his son. “Even if he wasn’t a perfect father, he was well-loved in the community, Dev.”
Dev tipped his head in silent acknowledgment.
