to sit here spying on Johann, but Conn needed to take the next step.
To figure out what he was going to do now that Johann was home.
As he stood, he let the binoculars drop to his chest, the item hanging there by its strap. He wasn’t the kind of guy who played intrigue games. Hell, only a few weeks ago, he’d been Raintree, Montana’s resident fix-it man, the one you called when you needed a roof patched or fence mended.
Conn was out of his element here.
He started to walk back to the cabin, not knowing what to do next. That’s when he heard it. The sound of laughter, of children, floating through the woods with pixielike gaiety.
Kids. He and Emily had planned on them. After all, that’s what you did in Raintree. You got married, had children, then called it a life. But after Conn had found out the truth about himself, had come to doubt who he even was, Emily had decided that he’d changed in some indefinable way. She’d called him a stranger and broken off the engagement.
Oddly enough, it hadn’t hurt very much. By the time she’d given back the modest gold band she’d chosen from a jeweler to symbolize their union, Conn had already been numb. He hadn’t had time for more bad news.
He’d actually wondered whether or not he could ever feel again.
As Conn kept walking, he realized that he was gravitating toward the young laughter.
He saw the house first, in the near distance. Lacey’s place. A two-leveled stone-and-log home with green trim highlighting the arched roofs. A porch circled what had to be five-thousand square feet of space, and Conn could feel the workman in him catch fire.
He’d dreamed of homes like this, but had never come close to living in one. The fact that a lone woman wandered all those rooms by herself almost cut his heart to shreds.
As he came nearer, he saw two kids—a boy and a girl—running around Lacey, who was covering her eyes with gloved hands. The children squealed with delight and, when Lacey uncovered her gaze, their laughter intensified, squeezing Conn’s throat with an unidentifiable longing.
She chased them in circles until they all ended up in a heap on the flake-blanketed ground. Then, as if in silent agreement, the three of them started waving their arms and legs, creating snow angels.
The boy finished first, hopping to his feet to inspect his creation. But that’s not all he peered at.
He pointed at Conn and began to run toward him.
“Taggert!” yelled Lacey.
But it was too late. The kid had already discovered him.
“Taggert, you get back here!” Lacey yelled.
But it was fruitless. The adopted son of her childhood friend, Ashlyn Spencer Reno, and Ashlyn’s husband, Sheriff Sam Reno, sprinted toward the woods with a firm mission in mind, no doubt. Tag was always letting his energy get him into more trouble than naught.
She heard the nine-year-old wailing, “The Man in the Woods!” as he faded into the trees.
Her heart froze as she squinted her eyes, barely catching sight of—indeed—a man standing on the fringe of the pines, watching them.
The Siggy Woods Monster, also known as the Man in the Woods, was one of those Kane’s Crossing myths, like the Locksley Castle, that colored their town with flavor. She’d lived on the edge of these pines for a couple of years now and had never seen, nor been afraid, of any legend.
But, just the same…
“Taggert Reno!” she yelled again, walking toward the woods. “Your mom’s going to hear about this!”
“It’s no use,” said seven-year-old Tamela Shane.
Lacey stopped and peeked down at her niece, the daughter of her stepbrother Matt and his wife, Rachel. The little curly-headed moppet had withstood a lot this past year—the return of her amnesia-afflicted father, his memory recovery and the reunion of their family—but Tamela was a trouper. Lacey took inspiration from the girl every day, admiring the child’s strength.
Strength. Lacey needed every ounce of it when it came to dealing with the citizens of Kane’s Crossing. They’d been poking fun at her glass castle scheme since day one, ribbing her about going back to the clinic because she was still “crazy,” still had “mental afflictions.”
Tamela grabbed her hand. “Tag’s stubborn, Aunt Lacey. He won’t come back unless the Monster eats him up and spits him right back out at us.”
A thought slapped her. Man in the woods. Connor was in the woods.
Elation filled her up for a moment, then deflated. He’d touched her last night, trailing a finger down her skin as if appreciating the fine grain of a wooden beam. He’d pulled away just as unfeelingly, too, as if deciding that the material wasn’t suitable.
But why did his opinion matter to her? Men like Connor, ones who seemed so strong and together, didn’t want women with her flawed baggage anyway. Better to have him pull away from her now rather than having him reject her when he found out she’d enjoyed a restful mental vacation at HazyLawn.
By this time, Tag had managed to drag the man out of the woods and, as expected, it was Connor.
If the guy didn’t want to be bothered, what was he doing here?
“Aunt Lacey,” said Tamela. “The Man doesn’t seem so scary.”
Exactly, and that was the frightening thing. With his bulky coat broadening his shoulders, his wide-brimmed hat hiding all but that blond ponytail, his slow-molasses gait as he allowed Taggert to drag him out of the woods, Connor Langley was the scariest creature Lacey had encountered in a long time.
Maybe even more horrifying than the dark-robed ghosts who knocked at the entry to her dreams most nights. Ghosts she’d left behind as a teenager: severe depression, unworthiness, emptiness.
As Connor came nearer, a distant part of Lacey wanted to return to a protective shell, the shell she’d destroyed after returning to Kane’s Crossing, to a family who embraced her and everything she’d gone through.
Yet instead of cowering, Lacey gathered her strength while Tag introduced her to the man hiding in her cabin.
Chapter Three
A n hour later, Lacey watched through the kitchen’s glass window while Connor helped Tag and Tamela put the finishing touches on something they called a “snow wookie.” It resembled a cross between a fuzzy dog and a long-limbed giant but, hey, the kids loved it.
Connor laughed—actually laughed—as he held up Tamela so she could meticulously sculpt the wookie’s plush lips. Lacey couldn’t believe this was the same man who grimaced at her every time she asked him a personal question.
But she ended up smiling, too, his happiness tickling her.
They finished their work of art, standing back, the children checking to see if Lacey was paying attention by waving at her. She gave a thumbs-up sign and continued with her hot cocoa preparation.
Moments
