Her Mysterious Houseguest

“None of us are, boy. Just as well, what’d we do with all those apples? Rachel knows how trees are planted, she can tell you whatever you don’t know.”

A hospital worker arrived with a wheelchair to take Aino for therapy, so Rachel and Mikel left. Pausing by her car in the parking lot, he said, “How about letting me take you to dinner tonight? It’s my turn.”

“Do you like fish?”

Strange thing about women, they almost never answered precisely what was asked. “All kinds,” he told her.

“Good. Because this, like every Friday, is fish-fry night in the U.P.”

“In that case, you choose where.”

“Metrovich’s is usually good But we’ll need to get there early before they run out of perch—it’s their specialty. Say five-thirty.”

He nodded. “I’ll drive. About this Johnny Appleseed deal. I’ve never talked to a Girl Scout troop before.”

She smiled, rather smugly, he thought. “Don’t worry, the girls will hang on your every word.”

He eyed her dubiously.

“As for the tree planting,” she added, “I’ll give you a quick run-through ahead of time. You can read up on the original Johnny later tonight.”

“My bedtime story? Okay, but I’ve never been one for planting things.”

“Tell them that. They’ll listen to you, watch you plant a seedling and be impressed that this cool guy is interested in trees. You’ll make a great role model.”

His eyebrows rose. “I’ve been called lot of things, but never that.”

“Consider it from their point of view. They may like me, but I’m just their predictable Scout leader who’s always going on about what’s important. You’re a—well, let’s say a noticeable man from somewhere other than the U.P., as they can tell by the way you talk.”

“A ‘noticeable’ man? Because I’m a stranger?”

She eyed him levelly. “You’re the kind of man girls notice. Especially since you always wear black—or at least you have since I’ve known you.”

He blinked. Wearing black had gotten to be a habit without him noticing. Bad for a special agent to do something that identifiable. He’d get some other clothes when he left here. Smiling at her, he asked, “So you think girls notice me? How about a particular young woman?”

“Under the circumstances surrounding your arrival, I could hardly help it.” Her words were cool enough, but he noted her flush with interest. So the attraction wasn’t only on his side.

Rachel, unhappily aware of her blush, tried to ignore it. “I assume,” she continued, “since you’re searching for a missing girl, you’re some kind of private investigator, which will also fascinate the girls.”

Though he didn’t say yes, he didn’t deny it, so Rachel decided she’d hit the nail on the head. She couldn’t help wondering who’d hired him to hunt Renee Reynaud down. And why, after fourteen years? If she was careful and clever, maybe she could find out.

“I have errands, so I’ll see you back at the house later,” she said. He promptly opened the driver’s door for her and she slid in, saying, “Bye.”

While doing her grocery shopping, she kept reviewing her clothes, trying to decide what to wear tonight. There was no decent place to shop for clothes in town and she certainly wasn’t going to drive forty miles just to buy an outfit to go to Metrovich’s, which was a casual kind of place.

Still, it mattered to her how she’d look. Because of Mikel. Surely the man knew he appealed to women. He had to be the sexiest man she’d ever met. And, just possibly, the most dangerous. But she’d rather not dwell on that.

She pictured him planting seedlings with the girls in her troop and snickered. He was the least likely Johnny Appleseed in the world. Aino tended to outlandish notions, such as the black barn, but using Mikel as a substitute was one she could appreciate.

Arriving back at the farm, Rachel noted Mikel’s car was not parked by the cottage. She was carrying in the last grocery bag when she noticed him pull into the driveway and watched surreptitiously from the kitchen window as he lifted a small box from his car and took it with him into the cottage along with a plastic grocery bag. Shrugging, she turned away. There was no reason and probably nothing to learn from spying on him. If she didn’t label it spying, then she’d have to admit she liked to look at him.

He moved like an athlete, no wasted motion, graceful and purposeful as a wolf. Since wolves had been reintroduced to the U.P., she’d spotted one or two and been impressed. Predators. Beautiful predators. Like Mikel.

A predator she was having dinner with tonight. What should she wear? Everything she owned could be classified as respectable. For most of her life she hadn’t wanted to attract undue attention. She sort of camouflaged herself—like prey. Which she was not!

Upstairs, she riffled through the hangers in her closet and sighed. Nothing. Heaven knows anything at all would be okay for Metrovich’s, but she was determined to look different tonight in some way or other. Struck by a thought, she hurried into Eva’s bedroom. Eva was a tad more buxom than she, top and bottom, but just maybe there was something Eva hadn’t packed when she left for Finland.

A half hour passed before she triumphantly carried out a pair of sleek black leather pants and a see-through black silk blouse. The pants fit her perfectly, not too tight, but revealing enough to suit her present mood. As for the ruffled blouse, once she dug up the only black bra she owned, the blouse would complement the leather pants to perfection. It amused her to think that, if Mikel dressed as usual, they’d both be wearing black. She enjoyed the idea she’d be making a statement.

Smiling, she tossed the clothes onto her bed and went downstairs to fix lunch before she began the afternoon chores. After eating, she located the book that had the story of Johnny Appleseed in it and also a pamphlet on tree planting and left them on a table by the door.

Later, Mikel found her out in back where she was picking apples to take to Aino—Transparents, which were his favorites. “Here,” she said, tossing one to Mikel.

“I take it green, in this case, is ripe,” he said.

“My, so suspicious.”

“Why not? Since Eve persuaded Adam to eat an apple, things have never been the same.”

“But this isn’t Paradise.”

She didn’t realize how relaxing the quiet and peace of the farm were, Mikel thought. Hell, even he was surprised at how relaxed he felt. “Close enough,” he told her, “but I’ll chance the apple.” He took a bite.

“What’s the verdict?”

“Hmm, a hint of tartness within the sweet, summery flavor. A good year.”

She laughed. “Hey, it’s only an apple, not fine wine.”

“But this is a special one.” Like you, he wanted to add, but had enough sense not to. With the sunshine gleaming on her dark wavy hair as she smiled up at him, her brown eyes still crinkled with laughter, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Flaws tended to show up in sunlight, but if Rachel had any, they weren’t visible.

“Metrovich’s is pretty casual, in case you wondered,” she said.

“Figures. Most of what I’ve seen of the U.P. seems to be. It’s a different world up here.”

“That’s why a lot of us never leave.”

“How about you?”

A flicker of some emotion couldn’t identify crossed her face and disappeared. “Sometimes I think it must be the only safe place left in the world,” she said so softly he hardly heard her words.

Seeing an opening, he said, “It must have been difficult raising Eva while you were still a child yourself.”

She turned away from him to pick another apple from the tree, speaking with her back to him. “I was glad to have a way to give in return for what others had given me. Besides, Eva was a pretty good kid, as kids go.” She dropped the apple into a sack with others. “That’s seven apples, more than enough for Aino. He’s complaining about hospital food so I plan to take these in to him before we go to dinner.”

It was obvious she didn’t want to discuss the subject. He didn’t have a clue why. After all, it didn’t matter. Rachel raising Leo’s daughter had no bearing on what he’d come here to do—find Renee Reynaud. Eva, herself, might prove to be of more help than Rachel, since she’d actually known Renee.

“I’m looking forward to meeting Eva,” he said.

Ignoring his comment, Rachel said, “Shall I show you the apple tree seedlings on the back porch?”

Reminded of his upcoming duties as a planter, he nodded, hoping the guys at headquarters would never hear he’d spent part of his vacation playing at being Johnny Appleseed.

He surveyed the motley containers the tiny trees were growing in—everything from coffee cans to cardboard cartons and said, “Looks as though Aino recycles everything.”

“Farmers always have, didn’t you know?”

“If these seedlings get put in a hole in the ground, will they all grow?” he asked.

“It’s a little more complicated than that.”

He sighed. “I figured it would be. I know zip about plants—Grandma Sonia handled the ones growing in the house. I remember her talking to the droopy fern in the entry, coaxing it to do better.”

“Did it?”

“Come to think of it, I don’t know what happened to that fern. It never did show up after my grandparents moved to the condo in White Plains.”

“You didn’t have an outside plot to grow things in when you were a kid?”

“I remember a big tree in back of the apartment complex in the city that shed leaves all over the place in the fall. With that tiny yard, it didn’t leave room for much else.”

“Let me get what you need to read for your demonstration tomorrow. You can give them a quick run-through while I go visit Aino and, when I get back, we’ll discuss how-to.”

He grinned. “How-to?”

She shook her head at him and entered the house.

His smile faded as he gazed at the fragile-looking seedlings in the pots. How had he let himself get talked into this, anyway?

Rachel returned briefly to hand him a book and a pamphlet, then disappeared. Easing onto the bench swing suspended by hooks from the porch overhang, he sat with the books in his lap, thinking about Rachel instead of trying to read any of the material she’d given him.

She couldn’t be less like Yolanda, he told himself. She was neither self-seeking nor dishonest. No denying she was connected with this case, though. His case, not an agency one, yet still business, not pleasure. He’d vowed never to be fooled again by a woman, especially while working. But it was getting more and more difficult to resist his attraction to Rachel. Damn it, he wanted to hold her, to feel her respond to him, to make love to her.

What could possibly be the harm in a brief affair? Because it would be. Other than the fact he wouldn’t be here long, he took care to make sure not to get involved in any long-term entanglement. No strings.

He had no inclination to change his lifestyle—why should he? So far, it’d been working out just fine. The women he met were out for a good time—they had no more desire to tie themselves down than he did. No one got hurt and no regrets.

“Wait’ll you fall in love, old buddy,” Steve had once said to him. “I hope I’m around when it happens, so I can be the first to say I told you so.”

“In love? Whatever that means, it has nothing to do with me so you may just be waiting around forever.” That had been his answer then and was now.

Love wasn’t on his agenda. How could you fall in love with any woman, when there were no honest ones?

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