Dangerous thinking.
Sadie wandered around the room, studying the architecture and antiques while she conversed with more of the townspeople. Several of the men she'd gotten to know at the mill introduced her to their families. The Batemans led her across the breezeway into a glorious dining room that had a full spread of food laid out.
They met up with another couple and were distracted talking, so Sadie wandered to the front of the room to look out the window. A man in a dark suit stood to one side of the front windows. He reminded her of other men she'd just passed in the breezeway and front parlor. They were so still they almost faded into the woodwork.
Security.
Then Sadie saw another man approach. She took in the dark tanned skin and close-cropped hair for the first time since she'd returned. He wore a dark suit and tie, along with dark sunglasses to protect his eyes from the winter glare. He paused beside the first man, the angle of his pose allowing her to see the wire for a communication device running up to his ear.
The entire time Sadie had been back in Black Hills, the impact of Zach's new position hadn't really become a reality to her. He'd been directing cleanup and safety crews at the mill. There were other days when she didn't see him at all, and she knew he had taken over an old, established house not far from the town square as his new business headquarters, but she'd never really asked what actually running a security firm entailed.
It made sense that a family who had been targeted for over a year and a half would want this time of grief to be peaceful and safe. They knew the most prominent people in the county, not to mention in the region, and all of the brothers had contacts elsewhere. A lot of people were going to be in and out of this house over the next week.
As he glanced up at the window, it hit home that it was Zach's job to ensure all ran smoothly and safely. Ever the protector. Ever the hero-without all the glory.
Looking at him only brought home just how opposite they were in this situation. He was here to protect those around him. She was here to betray the one they trusted.
Turning, Sadie took her shame with her as she walked away. Surveying the people mingling and eating in the room, she noticed a small woman at one end of the sideboard picking up a half-empty tray and moving toward a door at the end of the room. Sadie hurried her steps to reach the door just as the woman did.
With a smile Sadie held it open so the woman could slip through unhindered. Sadie herself had performed the maneuver many times, but a helping hand had always been appreciated...and rarely offered.
"Thank you so much, sweetheart," the woman said.
Sadie followed her into a large kitchen filled with the scents of baking. "No problem," she replied, feeling her body relax almost instantly into an environment that held some familiarity for her. Being behind the scenes was much more her forte. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Stacks of prepared foods in boxes lined several feet of counters. Coolers ran the length of the wall beneath the windows. A glimpse into an open pantry showed shelves lined with dishes and glasses. "Are you doing all of this yourself?" Sadie asked.
"Bless your heart for asking," the woman said, wiping her now empty hands on her apron before extending one toward Sadie. "I'm Marie, the Blackstones' cook and housekeeper." She glanced around at the organized chaos. "And while they know I can work miracles, no, they didn't leave me to do this alone. But the girls who are helping me have taken a quick break."
She shrugged her tiny shoulders, making her Kiss the Cook apron dance. "I thought we would have a bit of a lull, but I was obviously wrong. Normally Nolen would help, but he's got his hands full, too. But those girls have been on their feet all day-they deserve to at least eat lunch sitting down."
"And you don't?" Sadie asked, but she knew exactly how this went. When an event was in full swing, you simply performed the most urgent task, then the next, and the next, until everyone was satisfied. But this event would go on for a few days, which could get grueling.
Reaching for an apron hanging nearby, Sadie draped it over her dark gray dress. "Just point me in the right direction."
They chatted seamlessly for a good twenty minutes as they prepared and replaced platters. Sadie brushed aside Marie's protests as she loaded the dishwasher. It needed doing, so she did it.
Until a six-foot-two hunk of dark charisma walked through the doorway. Sadie couldn't help it-her every motion stopped, including her breath. Not too long, but long enough for Marie to notice.
Long enough to earn her a knowing grin from the older woman.
"So you're still here," Zach said.
If she hadn't been glancing in his direction, Sadie wouldn't have known he was speaking to her. She straightened. "Where else would I be?"
"When you disappeared, I assumed you went home without at least saying hi."
Her heartbeat resumed, a little faster this time. For a moment, she'd thought he meant here as in Black Hills, not here as in Blackstone Manor. "No, I'm just trying to lend a hand."
His dark gaze slid over to Marie. "She's good at that, isn't she?"
"Most definitely."
He approached the older woman and folded her carefully into his arms, as if she were too fragile to be in charge of an army's worth of food. "I'm sorry, Marie."
Tears prickled behind Sadie's eyes as the older woman seemed to melt into him. She'd given Sadie, and probably everyone else, the impression that she was coping just fine, thank you very much. But one hug and the facade shattered. She didn't cry, but the pain showed on her aging face nonetheless.
"I'd been with her since she was a baby," Marie said.
"I know," Zach murmured, so tender Sadie had to look away.
"The car accident was hard," Marie went on. "But she was still here, still with us. Then the stroke...she's really been gone since then, but it wasn't real, you know."
The words struck Sadie's heart unexpectedly. There were times when her sister got so sick that she disappeared into unconsciousness for days. One time the doctors had to put her in a medically induced coma. But she always came back...there was always hope. Lily Blackstone had had none.
A rustle of fabric drew Sadie's gaze once more. Marie had straightened and was smoothing down her apron. "I wish she could have been here to see all the boys come home." She smiled at Zach, though it was a little shaky around the edges. "Your sister. Carter. This new young'un on the way. She would have loved all of it."
Life. It had been all around Lily, but she'd been unaware. Amber was the same, in certain ways. Her life was a series of doctor visits, debilitating treatments, recuperating and quiet nights at home with her mom and sister.
How much longer before she had no life at all? The weight of the thought sat on Sadie's chest, constricting her breath.
"Yes, she would have," Zach said. "She created a beautiful family."
"A legacy," Marie agreed.
And Amber would have none.
Suddenly the walls wavered. Sadie knew if she didn't get out of there, she was going to embarrass herself by either weeping copiously or passing out. Neither option made her very happy.
Her throat was too constricted to speak, to excuse herself. She lurched for the back door, stumbled through a closed-in porch, then burst into the weak sunshine. Not sure why, she kept moving forward, as if the motion would somehow jump-start her body into behaving again. But suddenly she was halted by a set of heavy hands on her shoulders.
Her body was pulled upright, then back against a solid, muscular chest. The warmth soothed her, making her aware that she was out in the cool January air with no coat over her dress. Just an apron. The thought made her want to laugh, but her lungs were strained.
Zach leaned in close, burying his face against her neck. His heat surrounded her. "Just breathe, baby," he murmured against her ear.
* * *
Zach felt Sadie's body unlock as if he'd turned the key. Breathing deep, she rose up on her toes. Then she collapsed back against him.
Leaving him feeling like he'd won the lottery.
He sensed her beginning to relax. The feel of her ribs expanding beneath his palms. The loosening of her muscles against his chest. The sigh that finally graced his ears.
He waited for her to sag as the tension drained from her, but Sadie was too strong for that. Instead her knees locked. She didn't pull away, but she wasn't relying solely on him for her stability, either.