Her Sister's Secret Son. Lisette Belisle
frowned. “Why didn’t I ever hear about it?”
“You weren’t here.”
At the reminder, Jared felt a familiar stab of guilt. At eighteen, he’d left, joined the Navy, then worked his way through college and veterinary school. Over the next eight years, he’d come back for visits but never stayed long until he came home for good last summer. He’d left Jessie to deal with his father and the farm. He felt guilty about that, too. So much guilt, so many mistakes. Hopefully, he could handle this situation without making more. He wanted to do the right thing—for everyone.
Contrary to his father’s opinion, Rachel Hale was very much a part of the equation. Jared couldn’t rule her out.
Reminded of Dylan’s aunt, he straightened abruptly. “Ben’s waiting up for you. I should be going.”
Moments later, Jared walked away from Jessie’s snug house. The windows were all lit up. Feeling more alone than usual, Jared walked down the road toward the main farmhouse. The day had started out with promise, but now the evening turned cloudy. Shadows drifted across the far meadow and crept up on Stones End. Like day into night, the past held Jared’s future. In all his wanderings, he’d learned a simple truth: this was where he belonged. He was a Carlisle. Blood ties were indestructible. Instinct told him that Dylan was his.
There were simply too many clues to ignore. But he needed more than instinct before disrupting so many lives.
He had a son.
Son.
The word whispered through him and stole into his heart. His son. His. Then, he remembered Rachel. He remembered her blue-violet eyes, her soft pink mouth.
She was going to hate his guts.
Chapter Four
The sun poured through a large window overlooking Main Street. Pierce Sawmill was emblazoned across the glass in gold-edged letters.
Rachel worked in accounting. Her job wasn’t glamorous, but she enjoyed it—usually. Today, the air conditioner was broken. Despite a requisition, no one had come around to repair it.
The metallic scream of a saw biting into hardwood drowned out the sound of Jared’s arrival. Only the stirring of warm air, the office door opening, alerted Rachel to his presence. She looked up from her desk, wondering how long he’d been standing there watching her. The thought sent a forbidden shiver down her spine—one she quickly rejected.
“Can I help you with something?” She felt the heat in her face rise as she lifted her voice above the noise.
“Jessie mentioned you worked for Drew.” His voice seemed to echo and bounce off the four walls.
Unable to suppress the defensive note, Rachel said, “I work for the Pierces.” Another log tumbled with a deafening crash. To her relief, Jared closed the door. Her relief lasted about a second. He’d shut himself in with her. Her office was small. It shrank with Jared Carlisle in it.
He apologized. “I should have called first.”
“Did you want to see Evan?”
Rachel assumed he wanted to see Drew’s brother who managed the sawmill.
“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, as if she hadn’t interrupted. “Could we go somewhere for coffee?”
“I’m sorry. We’re short of staff. I can’t leave the office unattended.” At her refusal, the air crackled between them. What were they playing, cat and mouse? Hit and miss? Who was keeping score? Rachel sighed. She wasn’t very good at this male-female game.
“What about after work?” he said.
Rachel latched on to a ready-made excuse. “I’m sorry. Dylan will be expecting me home at four.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Look, if it’s about the other day. I’m sorry if my father upset you.”
“He didn’t upset me,” she insisted. “In any case, he was right. Risking your life for a dog was foolish.”
He winced. “Ouch.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Actually there is,” he said with quiet intensity. “Is there any reason why we can’t be friends?”
The request caught her off guard. “Not really,” she said after a moment’s hesitation.
“Good.” He smiled. “If you recall, the puppies are due for their shots. You forgot to give me your home address.”
That wasn’t surprising; she’d hoped he’d forget all about her, and the puppies. She gave him the address, adding, “I’m sorry if I inconvenienced you.”
“Not at all.” There was a gleam of amusement in his eyes—as if he knew she wasn’t sorry at all. “I had to come into town. The sawmill isn’t that far out of the way.”
The office door opened. “Rachel—” Her boss, Evan Pierce, frowned at Jared’s presence. “Am I interrupting?”
Jared replied, “I was about to steal your assistant away, but she resisted.” He walked out, saying, “I’ll be in touch.”
After Jared left, Evan said, “Whenever you have time, please log this in.” He handed her a thick file. “By the way, my mother sends her regrets. The family left town after the trial, but she’s very anxious to get to know Dylan better. She’s expecting you both to join her.” Evan didn’t smile.
Rachel could never tell whether he approved of her or not. “I’d like that, too. But Dylan still needs to adjust to this move, and school’s starting soon—then, there’s my job.”
“There are schools in Bar Harbor,” he said dryly. “And as far as your job is concerned, we have connections there. It shouldn’t be too difficult to line up a job.”
Rachel stiffened, refusing to let Drew’s influential family take over her life. “Please thank your mother. Dylan and I would love to visit sometime, but not now.”
After he walked out, Rachel tried to concentrate on work. She stared at the figures on her computer screen and watched them blur. The numbers didn’t add up. The trial had left the Pierces in debt. And with no funds to buy new timber, cut or standing, the situation at the sawmill was only bound to get worse.
With the migrant camp closed since the previous summer, the local farmers were in trouble. Henderson relied heavily on the lumber industry. Hundreds of jobs depended on the sawmill remaining solvent, including Rachel’s.
When she finished work, Rachel walked home—surprised to find Jared there. He and Dylan were in the yard playing catch.
While she stood unnoticed, Jared threw a long one, and Dylan missed. The ball flew into the woods, and Dylan and Sunny took off after it. The dog was barking with glee, Dylan was laughing, so was Jared. The scene was so normal, so rare…everything she wanted for Dylan.
At that moment, Jared saw her. Unable to tear her gaze away, she watched his easy grace as he crossed her yard. She pushed her hair back, aware of a certain expectancy.
He spoke first. “I got here about half an hour ago. Mary Ellen explained you were running late, so I told her she could leave. I hope you don’t mind,” he said with a crooked smile some women might find endearing.
Apparently, he’d charmed the baby-sitter. But Rachel wasn’t an impressionable teenager. She frowned, refusing to be swayed by his rampant masculinity. “She should have called me and let me know.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And what would you have said?”
“That’s hardly the point.”
At her tone, he looked surprised. “You’re upset.”
“Of course. I’m responsible for Dylan.”
Jared’s