Between Honor and Duty Read online

“Who’s ahead?”

  “Derek’s on the promotion list now for engineer in Merced. I’ll have to ace both the written exam and the oral to have any chance of making the grade before he does.”

  “Somehow I think you’ll do just that.” She shoved away from the doorjamb. “Here I was trying to get Maddie to stop bothering you, and now I’m the one bugging you with questions.”

  “You’d never bug me, Jan,” he said softly. “Not ever.”

  A tremor of pleasure rippled through her. “I think I should…that is…” She stumbled over her words, her unruly thoughts tangling with her good sense. “I’m going to go wash Ray’s car and vacuum it. I’m putting an ad in the paper and hope to sell it this weekend. We still owe quite a bit on the loan. Owning a convertible is one expense I can do without.”

  “Sounds like a smart move to me. You know how to price it?”

  “I checked the Blue Book.”

  “Good for you.” Nodding his approval, he eased back behind the washer, crouching down out of sight.

  Deliberately, Janice turned away. She wasn’t going to make a big deal out of Logan’s kindness to her daughter, or fantasize about the intriguing timbre of his voice and how it raised gooseflesh along her spine. Or even how Logan, unlike her husband, seemed to think she had enough intelligence to make a reasonable decision.

  She was a recent widow. Logan obviously felt a loyalty to her late husband. That was all she had a right to expect. She shouldn’t go looking for trouble.

  Backing Ray’s Chrysler convertible out of the garage, she parked it in the driveway. The car had been an extravagance in her view, but Ray had been insistent. The symptom of a mid-life crisis, she supposed. She’d given in easily enough. He worked hard and deserved a little fun. Admittedly, it was a spiffy car—fire-engine red with a glossy finish. But for her and the children, the aging minivan would do fine.

  She got the hand-held Dustbuster from Ray’s workbench. With the top down, it was easy to climb in and out of the car. She started with the driver’s side, trying not to picture Ray sitting there, smiling so broadly because he’d gotten a new toy. Teasingly, he’d called the convertible his “pickin’ up chicks” car. She hadn’t been particularly amused.

  She tossed the floor mats onto the grass to wash later. The Dustbuster inhaled the collection of dirt and sand easily, and she worked her way across to the passenger side. She checked the glove box, setting aside the registration and the owner’s manual, vacuumed the carpeting on that side of the car, then climbed into the back seat.

  The upholstery looked virtually pristine, no wear and tear evident at all. Thinking she ought to get a fairly good price, considering the car’s condition, she ran the vacuum beneath the front seat. When she brought the vacuum back into view, a piece of purple fabric dangled from its mouth.

  She switched off the power and sat up on the seat staring at the swatch of nylon material. Her stomach knotted in apprehension. Slowly she pulled the fabric free.

  Thong panties!

  Could there be any innocent reason for another woman’s underwear to be in the back seat of Ray’s car?

  Nausea rose in her throat. Could she have been so stupid, so naive as not to know Ray was having an affair?

  She got down on her hands and knees, feeling around under both front seats. Her fingers closed over a small plastic tube. A lipstick.

  Mango Madness! Never in her life had she worn that shade of lipstick. It would make her look like a hooker.

  Trying to breathe against the pain that speared through her chest, she closed her eyes. To her dismay, she pictured a woman who had been at Ray’s funeral service. A stranger. Long blond hair. Dark glasses. Shockingly bright orange lips.

  Outrage warred with the knowledge she had failed as a wife. As a woman.

  Stomach heaving, she bolted from the car, collapsing on the grass near the flower bed she had so lovingly tended. She breathed deeply, desperately trying not to be sick.

  Chapter Four

  Wiping his hands on a rag he’d found, Logan stepped outside. He came to an abrupt halt when he spotted Janice kneeling beside a rosebush that was in full bloom, the hot summer sun casting her sable hair with highlights of red. Something told him she hadn’t taken a break from washing the car just to smell the flowers.

  “Jan? You okay?”

  It was a long time before she looked up at him, her ginger-brown eyes bleak, her face as pale as death.

  Grief, he realized, feeling a punch in the gut. She’d been cleaning up Ray’s car and the memories must have overwhelmed her.

  He hunkered down beside her. It was all he could do not to touch her, to soothe the frown from her forehead, to pull her into his arms to comfort her. But it wasn’t his place to do that. He’d been the one to let her husband die when the tragedy could have been avoided if he’d acted promptly. He might never get past that guilt.

  “Tough remembering, huh?” he asked.

  To his surprise, she opened her hand that had been closed into a fist. A skimpy bit of silky stuff appeared. A pair of women’s undies, such as they were. Vibrant purple. As sexy as anything he’d ever seen.

  He swallowed hard as the image of Janice wearing those thong panties leaped into his head.

  “You found them in the car,” he ventured, “and the memories—”

  “They’re not mine.”

  His mental picture shattered, the pieces separating like a child’s cardboard puzzle tossed into the air.

  “I’d never wear thongs. I’d hate them.” Her whispered words rasped with pain. “I wear bikinis. White bikinis so I don’t get a pantyline and they don’t show through.”

  A new image appeared. More innocent. Even more desirable. But he knew her thoughts were going in a different direction, the evidence of infidelity.

  She opened her other hand to show him a lipstick tube. “This isn’t mine, either.”

  “There could be a reasonable—”

  “He was having an affair.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “She was at the funeral. I saw her.” She shuddered, as though someone had walked over her grave.

  Logan swore under his breath.

  “Did you know?” she asked, her tone accusing. “Did he talk about her? Brag about his conquests?”

  “Ray didn’t confide in me. We weren’t that close.”

  “You rode the ladder truck together. You must have talked—”

  “No.” He wasn’t going to tell her what he knew, though the questions he’d had that fateful morning now had some answers, ones that Logan didn’t much like. Ray had been in Vegas with a woman—a woman who wore purple thong undies. He’d been hungover, if not still drunk, and exhausted by the drive home and very likely from a lack of sleep after carousing the whole weekend.

  Mentally, he cursed Ray for a whole lot of sins, but mostly for hurting Janice.

  Glancing away, Janice gazed at the budding American Beauty rose. The petals were perfect, not a sign of bug infestation, the color deep red. She sprayed her roses every other week from spring through summer, and fertilized just as often. The rest of her garden she tended with equal care.

  Obviously she hadn’t done as well at her marriage.

  “I knew we had problems,” she said softly. “I thought…I thought I’d still have time to make things right. We’d only drifted apart. He was working so hard—” She lowered her head. She didn’t need to make excuses for Ray. She’d been willing to try. He hadn’t. He’d found someone else.

  The back door flew open and Maddie pranced outside wearing shorts and a crop top. “Can I help wash Daddy’s car?”

  Shoving the thong and lipstick in her pocket to hide the evidence of Ray’s infidelity, Janice stood. Logan’s hand at her elbow steadied her. Warm. Strong. Caring. What must he think of her? A woman who couldn’t keep her husband from straying?

  And what of the blonde? Would it do any good to track her down, confront her? It seemed so pointless. Far too late to
make a difference.

  “Mommy?”

  Dragging her thoughts back to the moment, Janice looked down at her daughter, and the sense of outrage returned. By being unfaithful to her, Ray had also been disloyal to their children. Her beautiful babies. For that she might never forgive him.

  She squared her shoulders. “Of course you can help wash the car, honey. Do you remember where we keep the bucket and sponge?”

  “I’ll get ’em.” Whirling away, Maddie skipped toward the garage, happy and carefree.

  “I’ll help, too,” Logan said.

  “I don’t want the children to know about Ray’s—” she had to swallow before she could force out the word “—infidelity.”

  “They won’t hear it from me.” The sympathy in his hazel eyes comforted her.

  Placing her hand over his, she squeezed gently. “Thank you. For everything.”

  Washing a car with the assistance of a five-year-old was like taking an outdoor shower. More suds got on Maddie than on the car. Water sprayed everywhere, dousing them all and spattering the windows of the house. But there was laughter, too. Maddie’s and Logan’s. Despite the pain gnawing at her insides, Janice was able to smile.

  They were doing the final polishing when Kevin arrived home pedaling his bike. Sliding to a stop, he dropped his bike onto the grass.

  “Hi, honey, I thought you had soccer practice after school?”

  “We can’t have a team. There’s nobody to coach us.” Disappointment and anger rolled off him in waves as he took off his helmet and tossed it to the ground.

  “But I thought—”

  “Dad was gonna coach us this year. Then he went and died, and there isn’t anybody else.” He swiped at his eyes with the back of his arm.

  “Your father said that?”

  “He promised. Now everybody blames me ’cause we don’t get to play.”

  Seeing Kevin’s distress, Maddie went to him and wrapped her arms around him. “You can play with me,” she volunteered.

  Fighting tears, Janice pursed her lips, then drew a deep breath. Ray’s death wasn’t going to ruin her son’s life. Or his budding soccer career. “I’ll coach your team.”

  “Aw, Mom, you don’t know anything about soccer.” He pushed Maddie away but not with irritation. More like a macho refusal to show affection for his little sister in front of anyone else.

  “Of course I do. Haven’t I gone to every one of your games for the past three years? I know about off sides and goal kicks, penalty shots.”

  “You don’t know about strategy. Stuff like that.”

  “What I don’t know, I can learn.” There had to be books about coaching.

  “We’d probably lose every game.”

  “It’d be better than not playing at all, wouldn’t it?” she argued.

  Kevin was weighing that question when Logan rounded the car, wiping water spots from the hood with a soft rag.

  Kevin eyed him speculatively.

  In an effort to halt the thoughts that were so obviously whizzing through her son’s head, Janice opened her mouth to speak. She was too late.

  “Have you ever played soccer?” Kevin questioned.

  “Sure.” Wringing out the rag, Logan shrugged. “I was a striker when I was about your age, played some halfback, too.”

  “I would have guessed you played basketball,” Janice commented, momentarily distracted by her earlier assumptions about his athletic talents.

  “In high school. The year I turned fourteen, I shot up five inches in about three months. Drove my mother crazy buying me new pants. The basketball coach recruited me right out of gym class.”

  Unbidden, Janice’s gaze slid to his legs. She could imagine his mother’s frustration trying to keep him in long pants during a growth spurt. But the results were well worth admiring now with Logan wearing shorts.

  “I play fullback,” Kevin said. “I’m not real fast but I fight for the ball.”

  Logan smiled at the boy, that quiet smile he shared so easily. “That’s half the battle.”

  “Could you coach my team? Mom would but she don’t know much.”

  Logan’s lips quirked in surprise and amusement.

  Janice sputtered. “Kevin, you can’t ask—”

  “I couldn’t commit to coaching every practice,” Logan said. “You know what a firefighter’s schedule is like. But maybe I could assist—”

  “But Dad said—”

  Janice looped her arm over her son’s shoulder. Ray had made a lot of promises he couldn’t keep, including one to love and honor her. “Logan’s being very generous to offer his help. If you think the team could survive with your mother as coach and Logan assisting, maybe we could talk another dad into helping out, too.”

  “I guess.”

  Not exactly a vote of confidence, but she gave her son a squeeze anyway. “It’ll work out.” So would their lives, even with the painful knowledge that Ray had been unfaithful. Lots of women raised their children without the help of a man. She could do it, too.

  Glancing up at Logan, seeing his understanding smile, her heart did a little flip. For now, at least, she wasn’t on her own. Within the course of one day, Logan had fixed her washing machine, agreed to play the role of Maddie’s father at kindergarten Dads’ Day and volunteered to be the assistant coach for Kevin’s soccer team.

  Why was he being so kind? she wondered. And dare she read more into it than simply a firefighter helping out the widow of one of his fallen brothers?

  At this point, with her emotions so volatile and her nerves pulled taut, she didn’t know quite what to wish for. It would be far better if she’d simply concentrate on getting her life together and taking care of her family.

  LOGAN TOOK a swipe at a drip of water that had seeped from beneath the convertible’s door. He’d gotten himself in deep now.

  He’d intended to help Janice out around the house, give her some room to adjust to being a widow, then back off again. Keep his distance.

  Now he’d found himself volunteering to play Maddie’s daddy, if only for a morning, and helping to coach Kevin’s soccer team. That meant he’d be seeing Janice often. That meant he’d be tempted day after day, week after week for the entire soccer season, to take her in his arms, pull her slender frame against his chest. Kiss her.

  Damn, he was already starting to sweat and it didn’t have a lot to do with the temperature. For the sake of his sanity, he’d better start hoping now the team didn’t extend the season by getting into the playoffs.

  Seeking a distraction, Logan picked up the hose, twisted the nozzle open. “Hey, Kevin, you missed out on all the fun washing the car.” The fine mist caught the youngster across the chest.

  “No fair!” With a laugh, the kid dashed for cover behind the convertible. “You don’t wanna get the car wet again.”

  With a teasing growl, Logan stalked after him. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Can’t catch me!” Maddie dared him, running away from Logan.

  He squirted both children and welcomed the breeze that blew water back in his face, hoping the cold spray would cool him off.

  Kevin outran the reach of the hose, stopping at the far side of the yard and grinning a new challenge at Logan. “Hey, why don’t you get Mom!”

  He shot a glance at Janice.

  “No.” She backed up a step. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Your son seems to think it’s a good idea.”

  Eyes wide, she retreated another few steps. “What’s he know? He’s only a kid.”

  “Get her, Logan!” Kevin shouted.

  Her gaze flicked toward the back door, obviously searching for a way to escape. The corners of her lips quivered with the threat of a smile, and he really wanted to make her smile. The image of her sad, haunted eyes as she’d clutched another woman’s panties in her hand remained vivid in his mind.

  “A mother should be allowed to maintain her dignity in front of her children.”

  “Is that so?” He edged the sp
ray of water closer to her feet.

  With a cry, Maddie flew at him, wrapping her arms around his legs. “Don’t hurt my mommy! Don’t hurt her!”

  Startled, he twisted the nozzle closed and knelt down to Maddie’s level. “I’m not going to hurt her, sprite. I’d never hurt your mom.”

  In an instant, Janice was there with him, pulling her daughter into her arms. “It’s all right, sweetheart. Logan was teasing me, that’s all. Just like he was teasing you. We were all having fun.”

  The child’s lips trembled. “I didn’t want him to make you cry. Like Daddy sometimes used to—”

  “Shh, honey. It’s all right.” Janice met Logan’s gaze over the top of her daughter’s head. “I’m terribly ticklish. There were times when Ray—”

  Logan shook his head. He didn’t want to hear this. He knew what it was like to be tickled to the point of torture. He’d seen a bully in his neighborhood do that to a younger kid. Logan had jumped the older boy and pulled him off, at the cost of a cut lip.

  He’d do the same thing now if he could have reached past the grave.

  Anger, and the need to do something, anything, to make life easier for Janice, propelled him to his feet. “Hey, how ’bout I take us all out for pizza for dinner? After we get dried off.”

  Kevin cheered.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Janice said, still kneeling by her daughter.

  “I want to,” he said simply and walked away before his emotions slipped totally out of control. It was her vulnerability that got to him, along with her determination to be just the opposite. In the past, he’d sensed her hidden strength each time they’d met. A flash of stubbornness in her eyes, a subtle lift of her chin even when Ray had made a teasing remark that was hurtful. She’d refused to totally surrender the essence of herself to her husband. Now, in the face of new challenges, she wasn’t giving in either.

  That demonstrated the same courage it took to walk into a building filled with black smoke. It made her worthy of respect…and love.

  A love Logan didn’t have the right to offer. JANICE PLUCKED a lone bite of pepperoni from the one remaining slice of pizza on the table. Logan had succumbed to the kids’ request for quarters, and the children had gone off to play the electronic games. Kevin had been told to keep careful watch of Maddie, but from where Janice was sitting, she could easily see them both. She preferred it that way.