Lucy’s mind tumbled and skidded. Clearly, whatever psychosis that was affecting Helen had spread to her husband. She pulled from Helen’s grasp and backed away. “If this is a joke, I’m not laughing.”
Helen sat up, then grimaced, lying back down. “It’s not a joke. Tell her, Damien.” Taking the hand that had been stroking her hair, she kissed his palm. “Tell her that Jack Gallagher is her destiny, just like you were mine.”
Damien lifted one shoulder in an offhand shrug, looking terribly charming—such a big man perched carefully on the small bed beside the woman he loved. Two unlikely people who had found each other in an improbable place, their chance meeting changing both their lives drastically. “I like Jack. You two would be a great couple,” he said with a grin.
“But—but Jack’s been like a brother to us,” Lucy cried. “He—he...” She clamped her jaw. This conversation was ridiculous. “Besides, I—I can’t conceive of marriage right now!” Her heart wanted to scream that concepts like “trust” and “commitment” were sour, bitter lies as far as she was concerned. Stadler’s treachery had done great damage to her heart, damage not quickly mended—if ever.
Even so, Lucy wasn’t the sort of person to get angry and shout or argue. She’d always been the peacemaker of the three sisters. So from long years of practice, she straightened her face. She wasn’t mad at Helen. The sweet, stubborn dear had insisted on flying from New York just to be with Lucy on her birthday.
Clamping her hands together, she eyed them both with as much poise as she could muster. “I think the way you two met was extremely romantic, and it was a beautiful coincidence—considering the myth and all. But don’t you breathe a word of that nonsense again or I’ll—I’ll...”
“What?” Helen asked with a smirk. “Knit me a really ugly sweater?” She laughed, then winced, but quickly regained her smile. “To be honest, it won’t be necessary for either of us to lift a finger. Your fate is sealed.”
Lucy’s brows knit further and she stared pointedly at Damien. “The subject ends here, right?”
He winked. “I always said Jack was a damn lucky man. I just didn’t know how lucky.”
Lucy’s lips parted in stunned disbelief. “You two are crazy.”
“We are cute, aren’t we?” Helen snuggled against her husband. “And we’re happy for you, Lucy.”
She drew a deep breath and forbade herself to tremble. “Get some sleep, both of you. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
“You’re cute when you’re in denial,” Helen said, waving goodbye. “Now go away. Damien has some serious kissing to do.”
His low chuckle mingled with his wife’s laughter, chasing Lucy from the room. As she scurried along the hallway toward the parking lot, she vowed that Jack would never get wind of what had been predicted today. Jack Gallagher felt indebted to their father for helping turn his life around, and because of that deep affection and appreciation, he cared for all three of the Crosby daughters—equally.
She would never allow him to be embarrassed by such a crazy notion!
Since Old Man Winter had decided to revisit Branson, Jack lit a fire in the inn’s parlor. Luckily, March was not one of the busiest tourist months in the bustling Missouri town referred to as the “Las Vegas of the Ozarks,” so there was a vacant room for Jack.
Lucy had taken a long nap and a relaxing bath that afternoon, so she felt more human as she sat on the white muslin sofa, toying with the fringe of one of the colorful throw pillows. Covertly, she watched Jack as he and Elissa played gin on the Oriental rug before the fire.
Elissa slapped his hand as he picked up a card she’d just thrown on the discard pile. “That’s the third card of mine you’ve taken!”
He slipped it into his fan of cards. “Can I help it if you don’t know a good card when you see one?”
“You’d better take care,” Elissa warned him, drawing another card. She frowned at it, scanned Jack with narrowed, suspicious eyes, then slapped it onto the discard pile. He plucked it up, and this time, Elissa dropped her cards and grabbed his hand with both of hers. “Oh, no! Oh, no! There’s a rule that you can’t take more than three discards in a row.”
“Show me in the rule book.” He laughed as she yanked on the playing card.
“Don’t you trust me?” she squealed.
“Not a chance.”
The card was now bent and twisted, but Jack didn’t release it, only chuckled at Elissa’s futile struggles as he placed it with his other cards.
“If you gin, I’ll kill you.”
“Gin,” he said without missing a beat, his grin so delightfully devilish it stole Lucy’s breath.
With a wild groan, Elissa yanked his cards from his fingers and tossed them into the air. “I will not play with a cheater!”
Lucy found herself joining the laugher. She reached out and caught a card as it fluttered down. “Jack, when will you learn that Elissa hates to lose?”
He glanced up at her. The firelight did clever things to his hair, giving him a bronze halo. His teeth seemed excessively white as he grinned her way. “Then you play with me. My health insurance rates will go down.”
“Oh, you...” Elissa leaned over and tweaked his cleft chin. “You’re the only man on earth I can’t beat at gin and I hate that about you. It’s an unforgivable flaw in your character.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “That makes two unforgivable flaws. Lucy says I don’t have a clue where babies come from.”
“Really?” Elissa passed a dubious glance toward Lucy. “Do you suppose that supermodel who stalked him for six months thought that, too?”
“She didn’t stalk me,” Jack cut in, amusement in his voice. “She just followed me around and hid in my grounds from time to time.”
Elissa stood. “Well, excuse me. I’m insane for suggesting she stalked you. After all, stalking is when somebody follows you around and hides in your grounds. My mistake.”
“Okay, okay. But she’s safely back in France now,” he said. “Getting treatment.”
Elissa smiled playfully. “What was it she couldn’t resist about you, Jack dear? Your gin game?”
Lucy’s cheeks grew hot. “I was kidding when I said that, Elissa. I’m sure Jack is well aware of sexual—stuff.”
Elissa laughed. “Lucy, Jack knew stuff even before his mother married Dad and they moved in with us.” She gave him a superior smirk. “I should know because my room was right below his. I saw his girlfriends climbing up the trellis to his room.”
Jack’s expression grew sheepish, captivatingly so. “Hell. You knew?”
“No!” Lucy cried. “I don’t believe it. I never saw any girls. And I ran in and jumped right into Jack’s bed during thunderstorms.”
“During thunderstorms the windows were closed,” Elissa reminded her with a laugh.
The fire popped and hissed, and Jack turned away to took into the flames. Lucy had a feeling he was embarrassed about this discussion of his wild youth.
“On those infrequent nights when his window was closed, it kept out the rain and half the pubescent females in Kansas City.” Elissa crossed her arms before her, eyeing Lucy as though she were a touch feeble-witted. “And you said he didn’t know where babies came from. Just another example that you’re not a good judge of men.”
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