“I thought he’d give in before now,” Jane mused.
By that time Rachel had gotten herself under control again, and she apologized to Jane for crying all over her. She bit her lip, promising herself that it wouldn’t happen again. She had to accept his loss and stop mourning.
“Look, maybe I can do something,” Jane said. “I’ll have to work on Grant. Talk to you later.”
Rachel hung up the phone, but she didn’t let herself dwell on what Jane had said. She couldn’t. If she got her hopes up again only to have them dashed, it would destroy her.
JANE WENT IN search of Grant, and found him in the barn, working on the tractor. It was cold, but despite the chill he was working in only his shirt sleeves, and they were rolled up to his elbows. Two chubby little boys with white-blond hair and amber eyes, snugly bundled against the chill, played at his feet. Grant had started taking them out with him, now that she was so big with pregnancy that it was hard for her to chase after two rambunctious toddlers.
When he saw her he straightened, a wrench in his hand. Swiftly his gaze went over her, and despite her bulk a certain gleam entered his eyes.
“How do I get in touch with Kell?” she asked, getting right to the point.
Grant looked wary. “Why do you want to get in touch with Kell?”
“For Rachel.”
Consideringly, Grant eyed his wife. Kell had had his private phone number changed soon after he’d returned home, and Grant had made certain Jane hadn’t discovered it since then. It was too dangerous for her to know things like that; she had a positive genius for attracting trouble.
“What about Rachel?”
“I just talked to her. She was crying, and you know Rachel never cries.”
Grant looked at her in silence, thinking. Not many women would have done what Rachel had. She and Jane weren’t ordinary women, and though they went about things differently, it was the basic truth that they were both strong women. Then he looked down at the little boys playing happily in the hay, crawling over his feet. Slowly a grin cracked his hard face. Kell was a good man; he deserved some of this happiness.
“All right,” he said, putting the wrench aside and leaning down to scoop the twins into his arms. “Let’s go into the house. I’ll put the call through. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you get his number.”
Jane stuck her tongue out at him, but followed him to the house with a big grin on her face.
Grant didn’t take any chances; he made her wait in the next room while he made the call. When he heard the line ringing he called her, and she raced in to grab the receiver from his hand. It took three more rings before the phone was picked up on the other end and a deep voice said, “Sabin.”
“Kell,” she said cheerfully. “This is Jane.”
There was dead silence for a moment, and she stepped into the breach. “It’s about Rachel.”
“Rachel?” His voice was guarded.
“Rachel Jones,” Jane said, rubbing it in. “Don’t you remember her? She’s the woman in Florida—”
“Damn it, you know I remember. Is something wrong?”
“You need to go see her.”
He sighed. “Look, Jane, I know you mean well, but there’s no point in talking about it. I did what I had to do.”
“You need to go see her,” Jane repeated.
Something in her voice got through to him, and she heard the sudden sharpness that edged into his tone. “Why? Is something wrong?”
“She’s been trying to get in touch with you,” Jane said evasively.
“I know. I got the messages.”
“Then why haven’t you called her?”
“I have my reasons.”
He was the most stubborn, noncommittal man she’d ever met, except for Grant Sullivan; they were two of a kind. Still, even stone could be worn away by dripping water, so she didn’t give up. “You should have called her.”