top priority was to keep her daughter hidden and safe. Ballet classes were unnerving. The less Belle interacted with others, the better. But on the other hand, how was the nearly-five-year-old supposed to develop socially and emotionally if her mother kept her isolated in a strange house? Every bit as vivacious as her father had been, Belle needed to be around people.
“Guess what?” Alex changed the subject. “I decided we’re going to the festival this weekend.” It was a stopgap measure, one that would make Belle happy without being as risky as regular dance lessons where she might make friends and unwittingly confide in her classmates.
“We are?” Belle stretched her arms out and spun in a circle. “They have balloon animals at the festival! Eden said so. And pony rides.”
As Alex steered the cart down the bread aisle, Belle kept up a monologue of everything she planned to do and eat at Frederick-Fest. For the first time since they’d showed up in town, Alex felt as if she’d done something right. Maybe the festival would be good for both of them. Lord knew she could use the diversion.
They finished their shopping and progressed to the checkout line, where the cashier took note of the five boxes of spaghetti noodles and smiled. “Having a dinner party?”
Alex’s face heated and she didn’t bother answering as she paid. She hadn’t realized she’d grabbed that many boxes. Had she subconsciously thought that if she armed herself with enough pasta she could avoid running into Zane Winchester again? Unlikely. The man lived next door. It would have been nice if she could park in the Comers’ garage, all the better to dodge her neighbors when she was coming and going from the house, but the garage was full.
Full of the Comers’ belongings. Because it’s their home. This house-sitting situation was fortuitous but temporary. Now that she and Belle had settled into a “safe” place long enough to regroup, Alex had to come up with a long term plan to protect her daughter.
In a perfect world, Alex could stay one step ahead and the Hargroves would never find them. But she couldn’t count on that. She desperately wished she had ammunition against them, insurance she could use to make them relent. For the sake of her marriage—and because she’d thought it prudent to stay beneath the Hargroves’ radar as much as possible—she’d tried for years to ignore her instincts about her parents-in-law. If she’d dug deeper, would she now have enough information to be a real threat to them?
Not necessarily. Even if she’d been brave enough to ask questions sooner, who would have given her straight answers? Besides, if evidence of Phillip Hargrove’s corruption was so easy to come by, someone would have used it by now. No matter how many smiling people clapped him on the back at the country club, the man had a few enemies. But Phillip did enough social and financial damage to his opponents to discourage people from acting against him. He wasn’t used to being thwarted.
A perverse grin tugged at her lips. The man who didn’t tolerate ever being told no must have been downright apoplectic when he learned his “mousy nobody” of a daughter-in-law had defied him. She wished she could have seen the look on his face when he’d realized she wasn’t walking into that courtroom. Her self-congratulatory moment faded as quickly as it came, though. She’d caught them off guard the first time simply because it had never occurred to them that she would have the gumption to leave, just as Chris had underestimated her ability to walk away from him. Now Eileen and Phillip had a better understanding of the lengths she would go to in order to keep Josie out of their clutches.
Without the element of surprise on her side, what other weapons did she have in her arsenal?
* * *
FOLLOWING DINNER THURSDAY night, Zane delegated the job of walking the dog to Eden. “Don’t go far. They’re predicting a storm tonight. And don’t forget to take some baggies with you to clean up after her.”
She made a face. “Gross. Come on, Dolly, let’s get this over with.”
“So you can beat the rain and hurry back to focus on that makeup homework, right?”
He’d found several opportunities during dinner to stress the importance of her grades—and remind her he’d be checking her work from now on to make sure it was complete. At this latest mention, Eden shot him a look that could pierce Kevlar. But she didn’t make a surly retort, which was progress. Maybe I’m getting through to her.
He’d had a brainstorm at lunch on how to further encourage his daughter to become an upstanding member of society. At the restaurant, Ben had commented that it might benefit Eden to have a woman she could relate to as a role model. Would it also help Eden to be someone else’s role model? She’d doted on Belle Hunt. She’d been so patient and good-natured with the little girl; perhaps giving them more time together would motivate Eden to be a sterling example.
He just needed Alex Hunt’s cooperation.
Today he’d found himself thinking about the lovely widow far more than he should; the sadness in her eyes haunted him. He wanted to help her smile again. Granted, she’d been a bit skittish in his presence so far, but if she got to know him better... His divorce had been difficult even with friends and his parents nearby to help him through it. He could barely fathom how Alex felt, alone with no local support network. Zane could take her to dinner, officially welcome her to town and let her know he was here for her.
For a second, doubt gripped him—was this another ill-advised attempt at rescuing a damsel in distress? No. It was simply an invitation to dinner. According to Ben, men issued such invitations to women all the time.
Zane scrawled a quick note saying he’d be back soon and changed into a faded San Antonio Spurs T-shirt with his jeans. Both times he’d interacted with Alex, she’d seemed intimidated. To put her at ease, he wanted to appear as casual and approachable as possible.
About a month ago, when he’d been eating alone at The Twisted Jalapeño, Grace Torres had stopped at his table to tease him about looking stern and hyperalert. “At least three patrons have asked if you’re here tonight to take down a criminal,” she’d said. “I would take it as a personal favor if you could at least pretend to relax and enjoy my food.”
Smile, he reminded himself as he cut across his lawn into the Comers’ front yard. Be friendly. He wanted to coax Alex into seeing things his way, not scare her. That outdated monstrosity of a car was in the driveway, so he assumed the Hunts were home.
He knocked at the front door, calling “Hello?” for good measure. “It’s Zane.” He could understand a single woman not wanting to open the door to unexpected visitors after dark.
There were footsteps on the other side, followed by the metallic rattle and click of the chain being unfastened and the dead bolt being unlocked.
Alex greeted him in a resigned tone. “Mr. Winchester. What brings you here?”
Her eyebrows were raised in a quizzical expression. They were a ruddy gold, much closer to the color of Belle’s red curls than to Alex’s dark hair. Many women liked to experiment with different shades, but he couldn’t help wondering how Alex looked with her natural color. Beautiful, he imagined.
She would be beautiful anyway if her features weren’t so often pinched with apprehension.
Realizing he’d yet to speak, he gave her a broad smile. Friendly, approachable. “I, uh, have something to discuss with you. Can I come in for a second?”
“Hi, Mister Zane!” Belle joined her mother at the door. “Want a hot
