Chapter 7

KENNEDY GOT BACK TO the house braced for a fight. She'd meant what she said. With everything on their plates, letting herself be provoked was a waste of precious energy and detrimental to Ari. But she didn't actually expect any of them to let it drop. Why would they? It had been open season on her since she got back Stateside, and Athena in particular seemed determined to get in every verbal jab she could - maybe because Maggie was far too controlled for something like that.

Her sisters were still in the kitchen, in the process of doing the dishes and clearing away the leftovers.

From her position at the sink Athena smirked. "Back a week and already starting things back up with the ex you left high and dry. Ballsy."

"I'm not starting anything back up with Xander. He gave me a ride. That's all."

"Clearly not the good kind. You don't look anywhere near relaxed enough for that."

Okay, that was it. Kennedy was about to drag her sister into the kind of rip-roaring, hair-pulling fight she hadn't had since she was thirteen.

"Athena, that's enough." Maggie's voice was sharp. "You've taken your potshots and now you're done. Kennedy's right. We have more important things to worry about. The status of her relationship with Xander is not one of them."

It didn't exactly qualify as support, but Kennedy would take it.

Athena scowled and plunged her hands into the soapy water.

Apparently in go mode, Maggie continued. "Now, since Athena and I only have a few days left, we need to make the most of them. There's no reason to think there's any problem keeping the house, but we should go through the whole thing, top to bottom. We're not finished with that list of items Mom bequeathed to folks, and we need to give the whole thing a good cleaning and general going over, inspecting for any problems or necessary repairs. It's a big house and it's old, so we need to be thorough and head off any issues before they turn into actual problems."

She'd made a list for each of them. Of course she had. Maggie was used to running the world, so organizing and delegating was par for the course. As soon as she'd finished giving orders, Kennedy pushed back from the table. She wanted some time alone to think and clearing out the third floor bedrooms was just the place to get it.

The third floor had originally been an attic, loosely divided into servants' quarters for the brief period when the lumber baron who'd built the place could afford them. Later generations had used it for storage, but Joan had turned them back into bedrooms when she'd exceeded the capacity of the six bedrooms on the second floor. Because there were always more children who needed a safe place to stay.

Kennedy flipped on the light in the first room. Judging by the layer of dust up here, nobody had been in residence for quite some time. Moving from room to room, she turned on lights and opened windows to let in the chilly morning air. After stripping all the beds and starting a load of linens in the washer, she hauled cleaning supplies from downstairs and began the process of dusting, scrubbing, and polishing.

The work was mindless and methodical and reminded her of all those stints working in housekeeping for various hotel chains, a couple resorts, even a B and B or two. It hadn't been her favorite job, but it had been honest work. There was something satisfying about putting things to rights and leaving a space ready for its next guest. Not that these rooms were likely to see more guests. Even if Pru opted to adopt Ari, Kennedy highly doubted she was interested in taking on Mom's mantle and rescuing all the lost children. Joan's death meant the end of an era. The thought made Kennedy ache all over again.

"I don't think anybody's been up here in a while."

At the sound of Pru's voice, Kennedy scrubbed a hand over her wet cheeks. "It seems to have escaped Mom's last deep clean."

Pru came into the room, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"I was just thinking how sad it is. I mean, apart from all the obvious reasons, but this is the end of the Misfit Inn."

A bittersweet smile curved Pru's lips. "I'd forgotten about that." She looked around the room. "Joan's Misfit Inn, home for the wayward."

"And sometimes wicked," Kennedy finished, mustering a smile of her own.

"She wouldn't have had it any other way."

"Can you imagine if she had? One person rattling around in this monstrous house? Who on Earth needs eleven bedrooms?"

"No sane person," Pru agreed.

"It's a good house, though. You can feel all the love that soaked into the walls." Kennedy ran a hand over the chair rail she'd just polished. "All the rooms could use more than a good cleaning. A fresh coat of paint would go a long way toward perking everything up."

"No sense in that if no one's going to be using the rooms. We should probably shut off this floor of the house to save a bit on the utility bills."

That was the practical thing, of course. But Kennedy felt more than a little disappointed. She couldn't put her finger on why. Untapped potential, she supposed.

"Look, Kennedy, I wanted to talk to you."

She stiffened at Pru's serious tone. "About?"

"Last night for starters. What's going on with you and Xander?"

"Nothing." The reply was automatic, if not exactly accurate. She didn't have a damned clue what was going on with her and Xander.

"I heard you get home this morning. That kiss didn't look like nothing."

Blood rushed to Kennedy's cheeks at the realization that moment hadn't been as private as it had felt. Of course Pru was the little mother, who wouldn't have been able to sleep without everyone home under one roof.

"He started it."

"You were fighting him off so hard."

Kennedy snorted at the wry tone. "Things are...complicated."

"You were with him last night."

"Not like that. I took a walk and hiked out to our old spot to think. He showed up and we spent all night talking."

"Just talking?" Pru looked askance at that.

"Yeah, just talking. Until he dropped me off. And that...I don't know what that was."

Yes she did. It was temptation. He was everything she'd never wanted to lose, and clearly he was opening that door again. Even thinking about it was so very dangerous. She needed to sleep and keep herself busy until her defenses were shored up again.

"Considering y'all nearly set the porch on fire, I've got a pretty good idea what that was."

"We still have chemistry."

"He still has feelings for you."

Kennedy bristled. "And is this the part where you warn me away, tell me not to play with him because he's been hurt enough? Because I'm aware of that, Pru."

Of course, even her gentle-hearted sister wasn't worried about her being hurt again. No one had any idea what it had done to Kennedy to leave. And why should they? She'd never told anyone the truth.

Pru just studied her with steady brown eyes. "No, this is supposed to be the part where I ask if you still have feelings, too. But I think you just answered that question. Yes, your leaving devastated him, but I think it devastated you, too."

Kennedy's gaze shot to her sister.

"Everyone else was caught up in Maggie's drama at the time, and it was easier for them to believe you were being selfish. But I know better. I know you. I know how much you loved him. And I know you wouldn't have left without a damned good reason. Not him and not us."

Kennedy schooled her features into what she hoped passed for a neutral expression. "I can't talk about it, Pru."

Her sister frowned. "Honey, were you pregnant?"

It was the absolute last thing she'd expected to fall out of Pru's mouth. "What?"

"You didn't let any of us even see you for a year. And with everything going on with Maggie at the time...I wondered."

Kennedy had to actually sit down on the edge of the bed as the gravity of that idea sank in. "Jesus. No. We were careful."

"So was Maggie. Careful doesn't always cut it."

"I wasn't pregnant. If I had been...God - " She loosed a breath. "I could never have kept Xander's child from him. And it wouldn't have been in me to give that child up." Because it would've been a part of him.

Pru sank down onto the bare mattress beside her. "I always wondered what would happen when you two saw each other again."

"I thought he'd hate me."

"Mom and I had money on how long it would take you two to rip each other's clothes off."

Kennedy's mouth fell open. "You did not!"

"Hand to God."

Fire burned in her cheeks. "I don't even want to think about you two discussing my sex life. I prefer to believe Mom didn't know I had a sex life."

"Oh please, like you were stealthy climbing up and down that bodock tree? Besides, back then the two of you threw off enough pheromones to choke a horse. Her biggest concern was that you were safe and that you loved each other."

"You're a cruel woman, Pru, taking away my delusions."

Pru laughed and gave her a squeeze. "Same concerns still apply." She sobered. "It must have been really hard for you to face him after all this time."

"It was easier than facing all of you."

Pru sighed and wrapped her in a tight hug. "I'm sorry about last night."

Kennedy jerked her shoulders in a shrug. "I invited it."

"Maybe so, but you still didn't deserve that. You're hurting as much as the rest of us."

"I've been putting that confrontation off for years. I figured ripping the Band-aid off would be the way to go because I didn't think I could possibly hurt any worse." She flashed a humorless smile. "I forgot Athena likes to go for the jugular."

"She'll come around. They both will."

"Hope springs eternal," Kennedy muttered.

And if they didn't, at least they'd both be heading back to the city soon enough.

* * *

How a department the size of theirs, in a county of only twenty-thousand people, continued to generate this much paperwork, Xander would never know. But for once he was glad of the distraction. He was staying away from Kennedy for the moment, both because he couldn't think of a reasonable excuse for just popping in again and because he knew that, with Maggie and Athena leaving soon, she really would be busy. Plus, he wanted to see what she'd do. That hadn't stopped him from thinking about her the past three days, so he'd buried himself in paperwork, something he usually avoided on pain of death.

"Do you have that file on the Pearson case?"

Without looking up, Xander shoved the relevant folder to the edge of his desk. Leanne picked it up but didn't move.

"Something else you needed?" he asked, eyes firmly fixed on the ancient monitor.

The front door to the station opened.

At this point even old Mrs. Matisse, with her weekly complaint about Lettie Wardlaw's latest supposed attempt to sabotage her prize roses, would be a welcome interruption. But it wasn't old Mrs. Matisse standing awkwardly in the entryway. It was Kennedy.

The rush of pleasure was swift, and Xander had to fight the urge to leap out of his chair to greet her. He noted her stiff posture and the way her eyes darted around the bullpen, and it occurred to him maybe something was wrong. So he did rise and scoot out from behind his desk. "Hey Kennedy. Everything okay?"

"Hey. Everything's fine." More with the guilty fidgeting.

What on Earth did she have to be guilty about? Or maybe it wasn't about guilt so much as being seen with him in public. There was no way people were going any easier on her than they had been on him, Joan's death notwithstanding. The Ridge's number one pastime was gossip, and respect for the grieving daughter would only go so far.

Her gaze landed on Leanne and lingered a moment before she gave an awkward little wave. "Hi."

"Kennedy, this is Chief Investigator Leanne Hammond. She's the new kid in town. Leanne, Kennedy Reynolds. "

Something in her face relaxed. Had she been jealous there for a second? The thought shouldn't please him so much.

Leanne rolled her eyes. "Six months isn't enough time for that label to wear off?"

"Sugar, six years probably won't be enough time for you to be considered a local with that Yankee accent." Xander gave her a significant don't you have work to do look.

"Yeah whatever, Kincaid. Nice to meet you, Kennedy." Leanne didn't leave, but at least she retreated to her desk on the other side of the room.

Before he could say anything else, Essie came in from the break room. "Why Kennedy Reynolds, as I live and breathe. How are you, sweetheart?"

A look of vague panic crossed Kennedy's face as she was subjected to the awkward you're basically a stranger but this is the small town south and I knew your mama hug. "I'm doing okay."

"I'm so sorry about your mama. She was a good woman."

"Thank you, Mrs. Vaughn."

"If there's anything I can do to help, you just let me know."

"Yes ma'am. Thank you. And I was so sorry to hear about Mr. Vaughn. He was my favorite teacher."

Essie's late husband, Henry, had been the music teacher at the high school. One of the few Kennedy had actually gotten along with. After a long fight with cancer, he'd finally passed away about three years before.

The older woman's eyes went a little glassy. "Thank you, honey. We had a good run." She squeezed Kennedy's shoulders and sniffed. "He always loved you."

Xander was shocked Essie didn't give her the third degree - where all she'd been, what she'd been doing - but then the older woman only retreated so far as her desk across the room. Asking additional questions was hardly necessary when she could just eavesdrop. She wasn't even subtle about it, sitting there with her hands clasped over her heart as she watched. Maybe he should offer to make some popcorn.

Because he wanted to reach for Kennedy, Xander shoved his hands in his pockets. "Was there something we could do for you?"

She finally stopped looking at everything else in the room and met his gaze. "I need you."

Her words shot straight down his spine and into his dick, which was more than ready to comply.

Two bright flags of color bloomed in her cheeks. "Your back, I mean. And maybe a friend's if you can round someone up."

That definitely took a different turn than he'd expected. "Sorry?"

"You said you were happy to help with whatever, wherever. Pru's moving into the big house until further notice, and I - We were hoping you could help us out."

"Oh."

She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and hunched her shoulders. "I'd have called, but I don't actually have a phone. I mean, an American phone. Yet. It's on the list."

Kennedy was nervous. He hadn't seen her babble this badly since the entire eighth grade class was forced to audition for the middle school play. Was she nervous to be around him, or was there something about being in the Sheriff's Office?

"Anyway, I had to run by the pharmacy to pick up some stuff, and I thought I'd take a chance you'd be here and just stopped by."

Once he was reasonably sure she'd run out of steam, he offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Of course. I'm happy to help. I've got a buddy or two I can tap for extra manpower. Trucks too, if needed."

"It's not the whole house, just a few key pieces. Mostly for the business. She's still got her portable massage table, but since there's plenty of space at Mom's house, she's going to turn one of the downstairs rooms into her work space for now."

"Makes sense. I never did think it was a great idea for her to travel to clients."

They lapsed into silence. Big green eyes watched him, as if, now that she was looking, she couldn't drink in the sight of him fast enough. Xander could relate. He was starved for her touch, the taste of her. Never in his entire career as a cop had Xander cared that he didn't have an office. He preferred being out patrolling, doing his job. But damn, what he'd give for a private space with a door right now.

"Are Maggie and Athena still here?"

"For the moment. Athena goes back to Chicago tomorrow. Maggie's trying to take a few more days to line some things up. We've been doing a huge clean of the house."

That explained the faint scent of lemon oil and the little smudge of dirt on her cheek.

"You've got a little something - " Xander started to just point but couldn't help himself. He reached out to brush a thumb over the smudge.

Kennedy's long lashes fluttered closed and she turned into his touch, some of the tension melting out of her.

A door behind him opened. Kennedy looked over his shoulder and snapped ramrod straight, stepping back. Xander dropped his hand.

"Kennedy." There was nothing overtly hostile about his father's tone, but if he and Kennedy had been a couple of cats, they'd have been hissing at each other, hair standing on end.

"Sheriff."

"My condolences about your mama."

"Thank you, sir. It's hit us all pretty hard."

"I'm sure it has." Buck nodded for emphasis. "A big disruption to all of you, too. Though I guess it's time you're all getting back to your lives, now the funeral's past."

What the hell? He was practically shoving her out of town. Xander knew his father didn't like Kennedy, but he never would've guessed Buck would be outright rude. Especially in the wake of Joan's death.

A muscle jumped in Kennedy's jaw. "Maggie and Athena will be leaving this week. I'm staying to help Pru."

"Are you now?"

"It's what you do for family." Kennedy all but bit the words out. Turning to Xander, she said, "I need to be getting home." She was already backing toward the door.

Xander sure as hell didn't blame her. "Let me make some calls. I'm sure I can round somebody up by the end of the day."

"We appreciate it. Just come on by Mom's whenever. We'll owe you."

"Sure. See you later."

A quick jerk of her head served as a goodbye, and then she was gone. If she'd left any quicker, he'd have expected plumes of smoke in her wake.

Buck was already striding back to his office.

Temper simmering, Xander followed, shutting the door behind him. "What the hell was that?"

Behind his desk, Buck fixed him with a gimlet stare. "Son, don't get involved with that girl again."

Xander had had enough. "First, she's not a girl, she's a woman. Second, who I'm interested in is none of your goddamned business."

"Don't be so damned prickly. I'm just looking out for you. I'm telling you, she'll leave at the first opportunity."

"She's staying. She's made a promise to her family, and she's going to see that through."

"Seems to me, once upon a time, she made a promise to you. We see how well she kept that."

Even knowing her reasons, that blow still stung, as Buck had meant it to. His father didn't know about the fight or the role Xander had played in driving Kennedy away.

"We're not kids anymore, Dad. I'm not going to judge her now for something she did when she was just eighteen. And whatever happens with Kennedy, I'm going to support her and Pru and the rest of the Reynolds family however I can because Mom, at least, raised me better."

He stalked out of his father's office and went to call Logan about a truck.