Retreat to Woodhaven (The Hills of Burlington Book 2) Read online

  Retreat To Woodhaven

  The Hills of Burlington

  By Jacie Middlemann

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and events are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  RETREAT TO WOODHAVEN - THE HILLS OF BURLINGTON

  Copyright © 2013 by Jacie Middlemann

  Cover Art by ADW

  Dedicated to my grandmother who taught us so much in the too little time we had with her…to her three daughters who made all of us so much of who we are…and my cousins…each and every one of them.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Mary saw the blinking red light on her phone the moment she walked through her front door. She would normally leave it until after she had a cup of hot coffee in her hand so she was uncertain what inner instinct drove her as she strode over immediately to the device her husband had insisted on and pushed the caller ID button to see who had called and at the same time activated the recorder.

  "Mary. Call me." There was no mistaking her cousin Jake's voice as it resonated out over the mechanical sounds of the machine. Specific. To the point. Arrogant. Jake never said in a dozen words what could just as easily be said in two.

  Her hand still on the phone. This time she did pause. She couldn't think of a single reason Jake would be calling her. Except one very specific and personal one. Casey. And while her cousin was doing ten times better than the night she'd arrived on her doorstep several months ago, there were still parts of her life she avoided dealing with like the plague. Her oldest brother was one of them.

  Mary lingered only a moment longer before walking away from the phone and into the kitchen. She wasn't avoiding him, she told herself, she was getting a much needed and deserved cup of coffee before sitting down and calling him. If it amounted to an injection of false courage she'd take it and admit to it.

  While the coffee brewed she stared out the back kitchen window. She could see a shadow of movement in the upper floor of the Carriage House down towards the end of the alley and wondered if her Aunt Charlie was making use of the art equipment they’d surprised her with the week before. It had been an emotional couple of moments for all of them. Her cousin Carrie, Aunt Charlie's only daughter, has come as close to breaking down as she'd ever seen. But then Carrie was dealing with a lot at the moment. Not the least of which was her estranged husband. The esteemed Senator was from one of the great southern states of which she would never again visit simply out of spite for the man. She sighed at the ugly thoughts that reared uncontrollably in her head. If she was honest, and Carrie would be the first to agree, Nick wasn't a horrible person. He was from all accounts one of the better politicians considering his squeaky clean reputation and stalwart dedication to those he served. He wasn't even a bad man, she had to admit to herself. But, and there was no getting around it, he had been a horrible husband.

  She listened to the coffee maker sputter and cough, added the need to buy a new one to her mental shopping list. And she thought about her cousin Jake. He wasn't just the oldest of Casey's brothers he was also the most composed and reliable of the lot of them. Little ruffled the man and more than once in a crisis he came through in his calm and cool manner that none of the others ever quite matched up to. And though she'd known him all her life there was little she really knew about him.

  Mary sighed sadly at that realization. She knew just about as much as everyone else did, she considered thoughtfully as she poured her coffee. Fresh out of college he'd done freelance reporting on topics others didn't see as relevant or worthy of their time. Jake had proved otherwise in almost every instance. He'd won awards for a couple of them that had made his name known in almost every household. He'd written on what he considered to be major issues long before they were considered as such by the mainstream media.

  A handful of job offers came in after that, all of which he turned down to travel overseas and do there what he had already accomplished in the US. And he did. He found stories that no one else bothered with. Then he had found wars to report on from locations few others could imagine getting into let alone reporting from. And while the American public waited with anticipation for the next Jacob Kyle report from inside the shaky lines of war his family waited for the same for far different reasons. With each report they breathed a cumulative sigh of relief. If he was writing that signaled as nothing else could he was alive. But it was years before the need to report on the terrors and ravaging destructions of man's battle against his fellow man diminished and Jake finally found his way home.

  But the man who returned from war wasn't the same idealistic young adult who had left in pursuit of righting the world's wrongs through the almighty written word. The Jake who had finally returned to his family was harder, cynical, and spoke only when he had no choice but to otherwise do so.

  Mary closed her eyes, thought about that first year after Jake had returned. Worried for him and knowing how worried her Aunt Leslie had been she’d paid him an unexpected visit. One of the results of that loud and illuminating visit had been a best-selling novel Jake had poured himself into for months after her visit that was very loosely based on his own experiences. That had resulted in a hugely popular movie that was based on the book. Both had made Jake more money than he would need in a lifetime. Add to that, she thought with no little amount of pride, the half dozen additional best sellers that came after the first and Jake was now set for several life times.

  She sighed quietly in her comfortable kitchen remembering back to those times. Her visit...like the writing, had helped him to heal but neither had really helped him to move forward. He was still as cynical and solitary as ever. She carried her coffee with her over to the phone. She couldn't imagine why he was calling but speculating about it wasn't going to get her very far.

  Even as she reached for the phone it shrilled loudly. She picked it up almost before it had a chance to ring a second time. She heard her cousin's voice on the other end before she had a chance to open her mouth.

  "Mary, did you end up buying Aunt Charlie's old place down the street?" Came the deep voice across the phone lines as clear as if the man was standing right beside her.

  "And hello to you too, Jake." Men, she thought, not a manner to be found in the lot of them. "And I did, yes." She waited in the silence knowing from a life time of experience he would let her know in his own personal time table what he wanted...or needed.

  "What are you going to do with it?" Came the next question, almost grudgingly.

  "Actually, I just got back from there. I spent the better part of the morning painting the kitchen. It's looking pretty nice."

  "I mean long term." At the silence he expounded. "Do you plan on keeping it, renting it, selling it, whatever?"

  "I'd hoped to keep it in the family." She still wasn't certain why she bought it other than one morning she looked out the window and saw the For Sale sign plopped down in front of it.

  "Do you know how many houses there are in Burlington that one or another of our parents or their parents have lived in at one point in time or another?"

  "Actually, yes, I do."

  "Jesus!"

  "Jacob." She admonished him gently.

  "Fine. Fine." He thought about it, hated asking anyone for anything. Anyone. "I need a place. I could buy it from you but I don't want my name on the title at this particular moment so I'd rather keep it in your name for right now if we go in that direction."

  Mary ran the possibilities through her quick mind and a
s a mother came up with all the dire ones first. "Are you in trouble?" She asked, concern lacing every word.

  Jake sighed. Family was always a huge confusion to him. Mary was every bit a sister to him as the one who had been born into his life and spent most of their childhood on his heels. "Not the way you have raging through your imagination as we speak." His voice softened though he didn't realize it. Didn't hear it. "I need a place to think. And I don't want outside company." He thought about the press and how he'd like to strangle more than a few of them. Most of them. "There are probably going to be some nosy reporters trying to find me but no law enforcement types if that's what's worrying you."

  "I was just worried about you not who might be looking for you." She paused. "Though I dearly hate reporters." During her own writing career she had spent enormous time and effort avoiding them.

  "That's ironic," he said dryly not trying to disguise it. "Being that you have one practically living in your lap." He thought about his baby sister who had hibernated to Burlington the year before.

  "She calls that her other life now."

  "Speaking of which, how is she? I tried to get a hold of her a little while ago and no one answers."

  "Hmmm."

  "Is she in trouble?" This time it was Jake who ran through the possibilities in his head. Mary was rarely elusive and did poorly at it when she tried.

  "No." She couldn't help the small laugh that escaped. "At least I don't think so."

  "Mary." He paused waiting for the patience that rarely eluded him until recently. "Where is Casey?" He drew the words out succinctly. Now he was worried. Not for her safety, Mary wouldn't be laughing if that was an issue. But he was worried though about her situation.

  "She's out skating with some friends."

  "She's what?" Of everything he expected to possibly hear nothing came close to this.

  "She's out with a friend of hers and his kids at the local skating rink."

  "What kind of skating?" Jake asked cautiously. He couldn't remember a time in his life when his sister exhibited any interest whatsoever with moving on anything but her own two feet.

  "Roller." Mary continued her efforts to keep the laughter out of her voice. Her own images of Casey skating were difficult enough to come by, imagining what Jake was thinking was almost impossible. "Actually," she continued injecting a note of seriousness in her voice. "A friend of mine and I were talking earlier about how long it had been since either of us had been skating. I was thrilled to hear there was even a skating rink in town. We're thinking about going there tomorrow and seeing how we do."

  "Next thing you're going to tell me is the ice man delivers."

  "I don't know about that but I am getting twice weekly milk delivery at my doorstep." She paused, let it sink in. "Every once in a while he also delivers these wonderful locally made potato chips."

  Jake started to come back with another sarcastic response but stopped. He could live with milk deliveries that included snacks he didn't have to go out to the store for.

  "Jake," Mary paused, wondering how to ask so as to get an answer. Jake was not a man who gave a lot out, neither was he someone to ask favors. That he had told her as much as he had...whatever was going on had him willing doing what he normally wouldn't. "Are you okay?" She settled with that which was most important.

  Jake leaned back in the chair he'd filched from his sister's furniture instead of sending it on to storage as he had everything else. She wouldn't miss it. After her unexpected break from the national news network she'd spent close to twenty years at he jumped at her request to pack up her condo and just do something with everything until she knew what she was going to do. If his rock steady intuition was on track, he'd bet his next task would be to sell the lot of it for her. She'd made her break. He wasn't certain why. Had a fairly good guess. And would have a better idea in the coming months if he ended up in the same town with her. He sighed, letting out a deep breath and looked around at his own sparse surroundings. He had never really settled. Never felt the need to. But at the moment he owed Mary an honest answer. If the question had been posed in a less concerned manner he would have given her his standard response that allowed for little further discussion. But this was Mary and he pondered just how much to tell her.

  "Jake?"

  "Professionally, at least in the world of journalism, I've probably just submitted my best work ever." That much was absolutely true.

  "That says quite a bit." Mary spoke slowly as she tried to decipher his cautious tone. "How many dead bodies are left behind littering the road?" She asked dryly and not completely joking. If he considered this his best she knew there would have to be some collateral damage in its wake.

  Jake couldn't help the laugh. She wasn't too terribly far off. "Bodies, none. Careers, few to a fair number." A fairly high number if things played out as his publisher believed they would.

  Mary tapped her fingers against the table and knew there was far more he wasn't telling her than what he was. But Jake only elaborated by choice. His. "And personally?" She had a strong feeling about this request of his.

  Jake sighed and didn't bother hiding it. Of all the cousins, of all the girls of which there were few compared to the guys, Mary had always been the most intuitive. Especially to others and even more so when it came to family. "There's personal, Mary. But I'd rather not discuss it over the phone. I'd rather not discuss it at all but there's likely little choice since some of it may follow me." He would eventually and knew that too. Jake swore silently at the timing of things. "I won't be bringing trouble to town, Mary. But there’s a situation that might develop that's about as personal as personal can get."

  Mary heard the frustration, she also heard the pain. It reminded her of the tone she'd heard from him in what seemed like a lifetime ago. "It wouldn't matter if trouble did follow you Jake. That's what family is all about." She gently reminded him.

  "I know." He didn't like it but it was good to hear it from her. "But I don't think it will be an issue. No one connects me to you. Casey maybe, but not to you."

  Mary couldn't hold back the slight noise that escaped when she wasn't thinking.

  "What?"

  "There might be a slight discrepancy with that."

  "A slight discrepancy with what?" He knew stalling when he heard it. He expected it from his sister on a regular basis but from Mary it meant something worse.

  "Mark."

  "What about Mark?" Jake ran though the possibilities in his mind. The very last thing he expected to throw a wrench in the works was his sister's former employer.

  "He tracked Casey down here." Mary spoke slowly, thinking ahead before speaking at all. Tried to lessen the impact of the explosion she had a strong feeling was on the way. "He's a very nice man." And a very determined one she thought with no little admiration and concern. And wisely kept that to herself.

  Jake ran her words through his head again. Great, he thought, just great. "Mark knows about you, about your connection to Casey and I.." It wasn't a question. Questions required an answer and this didn't.

  Mary kept her silence. She had brothers who were lawyers. She had cousins who were lawyers. None of them were as quick as Jake.

  "Okay, Mark tracked down Casey. And that's interesting all on its own." Jake made notes on the pad of paper in front of him. He kept them all over the place. He didn't mind keeping notes electronically but paper was a lot easier to destroy when necessary. He wasn't convinced anything on a computer or the internet could ever be destroyed. Not like paper. "He met you and since he's nobody's fool he now knows Casey is related to the reclusive Mary Lane."

  "I don't particularly care for that term." She hated to sound prim. She hated being considered reclusive even more.

  "Don't blame you." Was her cousin's only response. Jake diddled with his notes, drew arrows randomly. "And because again, Mark is no one's fool, he figured out that if you're Casey's cousin, well you must be mine too."

  "And why would that be a problem?" Mary w
ondered just how much trouble Jake had caused in the Mighty Halls of Corruption.

  "Not so much a problem as an irritant." Jake wondered idly if the rumors he'd heard recently about good ole Mark had any credence. He heard the sigh on the other end of the line and knew he was going to have to do better. "I don't think it's a problem because Mark isn't going to be willing to give up a good source which on occasion I am." And, Jake decided silently in that moment, because he was going to give Mark an even better reason to keep his and Casey's connection to Mary under his hat.

  "Source of what?" Mary asked though she had a feeling she already knew the answer to that question.

  "Information, honey." Jake wondered if Daniel knew just what a lucky son-of-a-gun he was. "It makes the world turn faster than money these days."

  "That's just sad, Jake."

  "Yeah. That's the truth of it." He rubbed his free hand across his forehead. He really needed some peace and quiet for a while. He needed to get away from D.C. and all the havoc that was going to cut loose very soon so he could prepare for the personal havoc he had just alluded to Mary about. Whenever it cut loose it wouldn't matter where he was. He couldn't run from it. Wouldn't. "So, how about Aunt Charlie's old place?"

  

  Mary hung the phone up gently. She loved all her cousins. Each had a special place in her heart no one else could fill. But like Casey...and Carrie, Jake was closer to her than most of the others. Closer to her in many ways than her own brothers were and had ever been. He may not be in trouble but something was troubling him. She knew that without a doubt.

  She moved back into the kitchen and refilled her coffee cup. Too restless to sit in the kitchen she wandered though the house. So much looked as it had when her grandmother had lived here. When they had visited as children and ran freely through the house and all over the neighborhood. Now they were back. One by one they were returning. It might not have always been home but it had been the place of their hearts.