Chapter 6
Teslyn’s hand went to her throat. That must be Wyatt, and while she had been waiting desperately for him to get here, she felt anything but safe as his hulking form waved to her stoically from the driveway.
She took a quick step back from the window.
How had she gotten dragged into this mess?
She didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be afraid for her life, charged with protecting the younger sister she’d never even known she had.
Adding insult to injury, once Ivy got some food in her stomach, she’d retreated into a shell that kept Teslyn firmly at bay.
If she didn’t know better, Teslyn would say Ivy was afraid of her.
Now, they’d be sharing close quarters with a total stranger, the idea of which put her at ease as much as a sharpened pendulum swinging overhead.
At least the log cabin was cozy, with knotty pine floors and walls, giving the space a rustic feel. It should have been soothing, but a jumpy anxiety had settled beneath her skin the moment the police car chased them from the smoldering remnants of her mother’s trailer.
She crossed to the door and unlocked the thick deadbolt before he reached the door, not wanting the doorbell to wake Ivy.
A bear of a man climbed the steps and stood before her.
He was far taller than she, a description she’d rarely given any man in her life.
He was intimidating, with strong features that lacked warmth and a gaze that made her long to cower. She lifted her chin. “I’m Teslyn.”
“Wyatt.”
She’d been expecting this man to be like Ian—brawny and intimidating, for sure—but always kind and respectful above all else. But if first impressions could be trusted, Wyatt Sorenson was nothing like Ian at all.
Wyatt raised his brows. “You gonna let me in?”
She longed to send him away, to tell him she didn’t need him here after all, but her options were beyond limited.
There was no one waiting in the wings to come to her rescue, no friendly sheriff she could call in her hour of need.
She was desperate all right, and this man was the only hope she had.
She stepped back and gestured for him to enter. “Of course.”
He walked past her, the spicy scent of him mixing with the smell of his wet leather jacket. She wrinkled her nose and blew air out of her nostrils, not wanting to smell him at all. “Just be quiet. My sister’s asleep on the couch. She was too scared to be alone in the bedroom.”
“Is there someplace we can talk?”
She held her breath as she passed him, and led the way to the kitchen. The gleam of brown stone countertops contrasted with the wood cabinets, and she was struck by how the comfy cabin had changed to cold and dark the moment he walked in.
He shucked off his jacket, revealing a snug black shirt and perfectly molded jeans. “Can I get—” Her voice came out as a squeak. She cleared her throat and tried again, feeling her cheeks heat. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Water.”
So, he wasn’t much for words. She pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it from a water cooler. She held out the drink to him, his enormous hand touching her fingers as he took it, and she had to resist the urge to wipe her hand on her shirt.
She forced a small smile onto her face. “I can’t thank you enough for coming out.”
He drank the water down in one long gulp, then turned his assessing stare on her. She could feel it rake over her face and neck, then lower before coming back up to her eyes. He didn’t appear to like what he saw in the least. “Anything for Razorback.”
He was making it clear he’d only done this as a favor to his friend, not because he truly wanted to help her. She tucked her hands in the pockets of her jeans, a touch of sarcasm coloring her voice as she said, “I hope I didn’t pull you away from anything important.”
He put the glass down loudly on the counter. “I was about to leave on a mission. I had to send a teammate in my place.”
Why had he even come here, then? Just to make her feel bad for needing his help? “I’m sorry to have pulled you away.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, the position emphasizing his muscled arms. His expression was steely, his eyes a piercing gray. “Like I said, anything for Razorback.”
She nodded despite the knot of tension tightening in her belly. “Well, I am sorry you missed your trip.”
“Mission.”
She cocked her head at the correction, her temper getting the better of her. “Are you angry about something, or are you always this pleasant to be around?”
He stared at her but didn’t answer.
She huffed, trying a different tack. “Look, I’m sorry if you had other things to do. This isn’t exactly what I’d planned to be doing right now, either.”
“No? And what did you have planned?”
“Laundry. Maybe some grocery shopping.”
He moved toward her and she backed up instinctively, her butt hitting the edge of the counter.
His expression was inscrutable and oddly threatening, and her heart galloped with alarm.
She didn’t even know this man, yet she’d let him into her safe space and trusted him to protect them, and she was suddenly wondering if that had been a mistake.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. Been a hell of a week. We were preparing for that mission, and the tension’s been high. Then you called and I had to switch gears completely.” His lips changed position and she wondered if he was attempting to smile. “Sorry if I came off as a jerk.”
His stare accomplished what his apology failed to do, affecting her.
His eyes were gorgeous, with sooty lashes and irises of rainbow hazel that changed from blue at the outside to green, then golden brown.
Worse yet, they seemed to pierce her defenses and shoot straight to her soul, and she folded her arms across her chest to ward off the sudden sensation of nakedness.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry you had to come all this way, though I do appreciate it. ”
He moved to the table and pulled out a chair, gesturing for her to do the same. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“I need a cup of tea. Do you want some? Or coffee?” She moved to the machine on the counter.
“No thanks.”
She busied herself finding a cup and a tea bag.
“I haven’t talked to my mother in years.
I guess you could say we were estranged.
” She started the machine and leaned back against the counter.
“Then today, she called me out of the blue, saying she was in trouble and concerned for her safety.” She cocked her head.
“Oh, and she told me I had a five-year-old sister, which goes to show how long it’s been since Marilyn and I had a conversation beyond her needing cash. ”
“Marilyn is your mother.”
“Yes.” She took her cup to the island, stirring two heaping teaspoons of sugar into the brew before heading to the refrigerator for milk. “She didn’t like me to call her ‘Mom’ in front of her boyfriends. As I got older, I didn’t like calling her ‘Mom’ at all.”
“So, there wasn’t a lot of love lost between you.”
An image of the fiery trailer sprung to her mind.
Hearing the truth so plainly spoken after what had transpired today brought a rush of emotion, and tears to her eyes.
“It’s not that simple,” she croaked, taking a seat beside him at the table.
“She wasn’t a very good mother.” She looked into the swirling liquid in her cup.
“But for the longest time, when I was little, I didn’t care. I just loved her, you know?”
She was really crying now, and she swiped at her cheeks with her hands. “She drank too much, and she slept with tons of men, some of them for money.” Leaning back, she stared at a knot in the knotty-pine ceiling. “I didn’t figure that out until I was in high school. Kids can be cruel.”
“They sure can.”
She straightened, meeting his eyes full-on this time, surprised to see true sympathy there.
“I grew up in one of the poorest towns in all of Mississippi, but we were the poorest people in it. At least, that I knew about.” She raised her eyebrows.
“We certainly looked like the poorest.” She took a sip of her tea, slightly comforted by the warm mug in her hand.
“As I got older I became ashamed. Then I did what all good daughters do. I blamed my mother.”
“What made you leave?”
She laughed without humor. “I’d wanted to leave for as long as I could remember.
” She stared at the table, remembering. “Johnny Briggs and I got caught fooling around under the bleachers. Marilyn came to pick me up from the principal’s office.
She called me a slut and a whore, told me I’d never amount to anything if I spread my legs that easily.
” She met his eyes and shrugged. “We fought. It went downhill from there, and I was on the next bus out of town.”
“And that was the last time you talked to her?”
“Othen than the gravy train phone calls? Yes.”
He leaned forward in his chair. “What did she say, exactly?”
Teslyn recounted their conversation in as much detail as she could remember. “She was scared. That much was obvious.” She told him how she’d found the trailer ablaze and Ivy hiding behind the shed, about her phone call to Vanessa. “And now, here we are.”
“And what happens now?”
She cradled the cup in her hands. “I wish I knew. I’ve been wondering that for hours.
Let’s assume Ivy’s right and Marilyn was murdered.
Did they only want Marilyn dead, or were they trying to kill Ivy, too?
She said there was a policeman there, and that he wouldn’t help her escape the burning trailer.
” Her shoulders shook. “Or maybe she was dreaming, and no one even knew she was in the house.”
He nodded. “We need to find out if Ivy’s safe from the person or people who did this, but the only way to know that is to find out why Marilyn was murdered.”
A small voice from the kitchen doorway had them both twisting in their seats. “Because of my daddy,” said Ivy, her hair rumpled and her eyes red.
Teslyn got out of her seat and crossed to the girl, squatting down to her level. “What about your daddy, honey?”
Ivy’s stare was fixed on Wyatt, her brow drawn low over her eyes. “Who’s that?”
“This is my friend, Wyatt. Don’t worry, he’s super nice,” Teslyn lied.
Ivy looked like she wasn’t so sure, and Teslyn quietly deemed the girl an excellent judge of character.
“She said not to tell anybody,” Ivy said to Teslyn. “She said nobody else could know.”
“Nobody else could know what?”
Ivy’s eyes shot to Wyatt, then she leaned forward and whispered in Teslyn’s ear, “That my daddy is a conger man.”
Teslyn shook her head, not understanding. “A conger man?”
Ivy nodded.
Wyatt’s chair squeaked as he rose to a stand. “A congressman, Ivy? Is that what you meant?”
Ivy’s lips flattened into a tight line. Teslyn turned her head, she and Wyatt sharing a concerned look.
It wasn’t possible. How could Marilyn even meet a congressman, much less sleep with one?
There weren’t a whole lot of politicians creeping around the bayou looking for a good time.
Still, she shuddered to think what could be at stake if it were true.
Besides, hadn’t Marilyn said they’d gone to high school together?
Wyatt walked toward them and squatted down beside Ivy, those eyes that had been so steely and frightening just moments before now exuding gentleness and safety as he asked, “Your daddy was a congressman?”
The girl nodded again, her blue eyes wide. “My daddy is a congressman. He lives in Washington, D.C.”