The Mackades Collection (Books 1-4). Nora Roberts

reason for that. I’m already behind.” When he turned to her, all he saw was that her eyes were dry, her face was composed. “I can take shipment on this room in about a week, if you’ve got a problem with storage.”

      “That’ll be fine. I’ll make the arrangements.” She turned and reached blindly for the doorknob. Terrified she’d crumble, she walked away quickly. She didn’t start to run until she was outside, with the wind slapping her wet cheeks.

      When he heard the door close below, Rafe sat down on the floor. At the sound of weeping shimmering in the air, he rubbed his hands hard over his face.

      “I know just how you feel,” he muttered.

      It was the first time in his checkered career that anyone had managed to break his heart. His only solace was that he’d make damn sure it was the last.

      The predicted ice storm raged through, glazing the snow, turning the streets to glass. It was days before the temperature inched up enough to soften it. Each night the thermometer would plunge again, hardening and slickening every coated surface.

      It didn’t mean a damn thing to Rafe. The lousy weather gave him an excuse to stay just where he was, work twenty out of every twenty-four hours. With every nail he hammered, every wall he sanded, the house became more his.

      When he couldn’t sleep, even after exhausting himself, he wandered the house with the other ghosts.

      He was too busy to think about Regan. Or so he tried to convince himself.

      Whenever he did, whenever she snuck through his well-fortified defenses, he just worked harder, longer.

      “You look a little ragged, pal.” Devin lit a cigarette and watched Rafe hammer freshly painted baseboard into place. “Remember that book—Dorian Gray? The way it’s starting to look, you’re the picture in the closet, and this house is old Dorian.”

      “Pick up a hammer, or beat it.”

      Instead, Devin crouched, ran a fingertip over the wide, carved trim. “Sure is pretty as a picture. What’d you call this color?”

      “Rose dust.” He framed the words like a dare.

      “Yep, sure is pretty.” Devin used an empty coffee can as an ashtray. “If you’re into pink.”

      Rafe spared him a look. “You trying to start something?”

      “Nope, just making conversation. They transferred Joe from the hospital today.”

      Rafe’s eyes iced over before he turned away. “None of my business.”

      “He didn’t lose his eye,” Devin went on easily. “Be wearing a patch for a while though. They can’t tell yet if there’ll be permanent damage.”

      “She should have aimed between his legs.”

      “Yeah, too bad about that. Well, I thought you’d want to know, he pleaded guilty to the B and E, the assault, on advice of counsel. They dumped the attempted rape charges to get the guilty plea and avoid trial, but he’s not going to pass Go.”

      Rafe didn’t want to care. “How long?”

      “My guess is three, solid. Before you say it’s not enough, I’m going to the sentencing tomorrow myself, and adding weight. When he’s up for parole, in a year or so, I’ll go back and add more.”

      “I said it’s none of my business.” Rafe toed in the last piece of baseboard. “How’s Cassie holding up?”

      “Okay, I guess. Jared’s pushing through the divorce. With the spousal abuse and adultery, it won’t take the usual year. Joe’s not in much of a position to contest it. The quicker it’s done, the quicker she and the kids can get on with things.”

      Thoughtfully he tapped his cigarette out in the can. “Aren’t you going to ask how Regan’s holding up?”

      “No.”

      “Well, I’ll tell you.” Ignoring Rafe’s snarl, Devin folded his legs and sat. “She doesn’t look like she’s been getting a lot of sleep, if you ask me.”

      “I didn’t.”

      “Ed says she hasn’t been coming in for lunch, so I guess her appetite’s off, too. I could figure that experience with Joe shook her up enough to interfere with her sleeping and eating. But I got a hunch it’s something else.”

      “She’ll handle it. She’s good at taking care of herself.”

      “Good thing, too. Odds are, if Joe had managed to drag her inside that day, somebody would’ve seen the door quick enough, heard the ruckus. Still, he could’ve done a lot of damage in a short time.”

      “Don’t you think I know that?” Rafe shot out. “Do you think I don’t know what he could have done to her?”

      “Yeah, I think you know it. I think it’s eating at you, and I’m sorry. Are you ready to listen to me?”

      “No.”

      But there wasn’t any heat behind the denial, so Devin prepared to say his piece. “Witnesses in the diner said they thought she was drunk at first when she came in, the way she was walking. She’d have passed out if Ed hadn’t gotten her down first.”

      “I don’t need to hear this.”

      “Yeah,” Devin murmured, watching Rafe’s knuckles whiten on the hilt of the hammer, “you do. When I got to her, Rafe, she was in shock. Are you getting this? Her pupils were as narrow as the point of one of those nails. I was set to have her taken into Emergency, but she pulled herself together. I watched her do it. It was impressive.”

      “So she’s tough.” The image projecting into his mind scraped him raw. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

      “Okay. I don’t figure you were in any shape to see the way she looked at you when you walked into my office. She’d pulled herself together because she had to, because that’s the way she’s made, I guess. Then you walked in. A man could go his whole life without having a woman look at him the way she looked at you.”

      “She doesn’t need me.”

      “That’s bull. You may be stupid, but you should know that.”

      “I know I was stupid enough to let her matter. To let what she thought of me, what she wanted from me, matter. I’m not doing it again.” He rose, hooked his hammer in his tool belt. “I don’t need her, either.”

      With a sigh, Devin unfolded himself and stood. “You’re cross-eyed in love with her.”

      “No, I’m not. I got soft on her for a while, then I got over it.”

      Devin pursed his lips. There was one quick, potentially painful way to handle this. “You’re sure?”

      “I just said so, didn’t I?”

      “Good.” Devin smiled. “That clears the way. When I thought you had a thing for her, I didn’t want to muscle in. Since you don’t, I’ll go see if I can…stimulate her appetite.”

      He was expecting the punch, and took the fist on the jaw philosophically. It was always satisfying to make a point. He lifted a hand, wiggled his jaw, mildly relieved it wasn’t broken.

      “Yeah, I can see how you got over it.”

      “I ought to hit you again,” Rafe said between his teeth. It was infuriating, humiliating, to know how neatly he’d been conned.

      “I wouldn’t. That one was free.” Cautious, Devin moved his jaw again. “Damn, Rafe, you’ve still got a nice right jab.”

      Almost amused, Rafe flexed his aching fingers. “You’ve still got a face like a rock. You son of a bitch.”

      “I love you, too.” Cheered, Devin draped an arm over his brother’s shoulders. “Feel better