on quicksand. It would be enjoyable watching the a-hole going down in flames.
But looking into the outrage on Jessica’s face, he had a momentary doubt. Was it enough to simply bring the bastard down? Maybe she needed this confrontation.
But it was so risky. He hated the idea of her going into that meeting and facing down those people. She could get hurt. And he wanted to protect her.
But not by divulging his plans. It was clear now that she’d be annoyed at him for taking away her chance to square off against Caleb. No. He wouldn’t tell her the truth. He’d just make sure the fight ended the right way. And he’d stand up beside her, just in case things got ugly.
It would be like that time with the pliers. He wouldn’t fight her battle. He’d just back her up and give her the right tools to ensure victory.
“Okay,” he said. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll show up at the meeting with you.”
“You will?”
He nodded.
“Thanks. I think it’s important.” She looked away.
Uh-oh, here came the bad news. He steeled himself. He’d already decided not to attempt any more seductions. It would only prolong his misery.
“There’s something else I need to tell you,” she said.
Something withered inside his chest. He could hope. He could make the bad guys disappear. He could save the island. But he could never make her love him.
So he didn’t wait for her to deliver the bad news. He simply cut to the chase. “I can guess,” he said. “You’re going to take the job in Miami.”
“Well, I haven’t said yes yet, but I’m leaning in that direction.”
He pushed up from his place at the table. “Good for you,” he said. “Now I need to go.”
“Please, don’t feel you have to leave. I can—”
“But I do have to go. I have things to do.”
“Oh. So you’re okay with me leaving town?”
“Of course I am. I think this job in Miami is perfect for you. I think you should follow your dreams. But you promised me a house.”
“And I will deliver one, assuming Caleb Tate and the Conservation Society don’t get in the way.”
“I’m sure we can get around them.” Thank God. He’d at least have that much. He could spend time with her until his house was completed. For a moment he almost wished the zoning board would give him a lot of trouble, just to stretch out the process.
“Now I need to go.” He headed down the hall to the front door, silently cursing the limp that made him so slow. He needed to get away from her before he did something stupid and destructive.
When he reached the door, she said, “Your house is my first priority for the next week, regardless of what I decide about this job offer. I hope to have the plans near completion so I can file for a building permit in a week or so.”
“Good.”
“And I should have something pretty final to bring with me to the meeting on Saturday.” She paused a moment. “I guess I’ll see you then?” Was there a note of yearning in her tone?
No. He wasn’t going to fool himself. It was bad enough standing by while she ran away to Miami.
“I’ll be there,” he said, and escaped down the stairs as fast as his bad leg would take him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Come on, kiddo, it’s time to go, or we’ll be late for your baseball game,” Ashley said, tapping on Jackie’s bedroom door. It was Saturday afternoon, a week after Professor Hawkins’s visit, and the boy had been up in his bedroom brooding most of the morning.
She knocked again, determined to preserve his privacy but losing her patience.
Crickets.
So much for privacy. She opened the door, but the room was empty.
She checked her watch. She had exactly fifteen minutes to get Jackie to his fall league baseball game. Jackie wasn’t a standout athlete, but he made up for that by being a veritable font of baseball information and statistics.
He had a growing baseball card collection and would sometimes spend an hour or more talking baseball with the Rev. Those conversations were a little frightening because Ashley didn’t understand a word of them, especially when they started talking about ERA and RBI.
“Jackie?” she called, hurrying down the hall to the bathroom. “Are you in there? We have to go.”
No answer. She turned around and headed into her own room, where he sometimes watched television. Also empty.
She returned to her son’s room, a frisson of worry niggling at her. Was