must have figured I'd be the one to come."
"Who are you talking about, Hannah?"
She stared at him, a feeling of impossibility constricting her throat. It couldn't be, but it was. Now she knew why Brett reminded her of Tyler. "I'm talking about my sister."
"Kelly?" he asked in astonishment. "Have you been in touch with her?"
"Not in fifteen years, but this necklace belonged to her. In fact, I gave it to her on her fourteenth birthday, and she was kind enough not to tell me that it was way too young for her." It all suddenly made sense. "Brett is Kelly's son. That means I'm his aunt." She looked into Jake's confused eyes. "Where the hell is my sister?"
Chapter Three
It wasn't a question Jake could answer. In fact, he was still trying to follow the story Hannah had just pieced together. "Are you sure the necklace could only belong to your sister? It looks like something that could have been mass-produced."
"Even if there are thousands of these necklaces in existence, this one was in this suitcase, with this child, under these circumstances. There's no way it's a coincidence. Kelly brought Brett here. She sent the text claiming the hot water heater was broken, because she remembered how often we had to relight it. It was something she knew I could fix. She wanted me to find Brett."
"Why didn't she just say so in the note? Why didn't she address it to you?" he challenged. "Why leave a necklace and make you guess?"
Hannah didn't care for his questions, but he was used to that look of irritation in her eyes, so it didn't bother him.
"I don't know why she didn't do any of those things. But Kelly's actions haven't made sense to me in a long time. She left when I was fourteen and she was nineteen. I've never heard one word from her since then. I have no idea where she's been living, who she's been living with…" Her voice trailed away, then came back even stronger. "But I know she has a son. There must be a father somewhere. However, when I asked Brett about a dad, he didn't say anything and changed the subject."
Hannah sat down on the bed, her gaze thoughtful and worried as she stared at the necklace swinging between her fingers. She was determined to work the problem. She'd always been that way. When someone said she couldn't have something or do something, she became determined to prove them wrong.
He'd always liked that about her. She'd inspired him with her never-say-quit attitude more than she would know. But he also knew that she could get incredibly frustrated when she couldn't control the outcome of a situation, and this one was definitely not under her control.
As he watched her stare at the necklace, he thought it was probably the first time in twelve years that he'd had a chance to really look at her. Usually, when he showed up, she ran in the other direction. But not tonight. Tonight, a flat tire had thrown them together, had forced her to rely on him just a little, and he wasn't unhappy about that. He'd been wanting this kind of moment ever since he'd come back to Whisper Lake two years ago, but she'd been determined not to give it to him.
He understood her reasons; he just wanted her to see him now, to look past the boy he'd once been to the man he was today. But her gaze was on the necklace. Her thoughts were on the past—and not the past they had shared. The memories she was reliving were of her family, her sister, probably her mother and her brother, maybe even the father she'd lost.
He'd known a lot about her at one time in his life. She'd told him things she'd never told anyone else, and he wanted to be back in the warmth of that kind of incredible trust. But he definitely was not there. He wasn't giving up, though. As long as Hannah was still single, he wouldn't stop trying to break down her defenses. He just hoped that would happen before she fell for someone else. And he knew there were plenty of men who were interested in her.
She had a unique beauty, dark-red hair that was pulled back in a ponytail now but would flow over her shoulders and halfway down her back when she released it from the constricting tie. Her eyes were a dark-chocolate brown that could burn with