Common Enemy Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Also by Sandra Dailey

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  A word from the author...

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  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  Common Enemy

  by

  Sandra Dailey

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Common Enemy

  COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Sandra Dailey

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Debbie Taylor

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Crimson Rose Edition, 2014

  Print ISBN 978-1-62830-327-8

  Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-328-5

  Published in the United States of America

  Also by Sandra Dailey

  and available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  THE CHIEF'S PROPOSAL

  A marriage of convenience.

  How far would you go to achieve your goals?

  ~*~

  TWICE THE TROUBLE

  A reunion romance.

  Can past lovers learn to forgive

  and make a future together?

  Dedication

  I’m dedicating this book to my son.

  Like a warrior’s sword, he was forged in fire,

  tested on the field, and came out strong.

  I love you, Evan

  Chapter One

  The sun dipped low behind the old farmhouse setting it in silhouette against the evening sky. Jordan parked and got out to look closer. Her heart sank when its condition became clear. She certainly had her work cut out for her. The blue paint on the two-story structure had faded to gray and was peeling in large patches. The windows were covered in mossy grime. Some of the shutters were barely hanging onto the building. A few shingles were missing from the roof. But as always, the pair of wooden rocking chairs stood guard by the front door.

  Mr. Coleman had walked over from his farm and was sweeping clouds of dust from the front porch. He was the nearest neighbor and Gram’s best friend. He’d been with Gram when she’d suffered a stroke and had kept an eye on her property until her recent death.

  “I’m sorry the old place is in such a state, Jordan. I should have kept it up better for you. I’m just not as young as I used to be. Your grandmother would have a flip tizzy if she could see how it looks.” He squinted to watch a second car stop behind Jordan’s. It was Holly Douglas, her childhood friend.

  “Its okay, Mr. Coleman,” Jordan assured him. “I’ve got plenty of time to put it right. I’m just glad to be home.”

  “I was hoping you’d feel that way. I hate the thought of the old place being sold to strangers.”

  “Thank you.” Jordan gave him a hug, and then took another look around. “I’ll have to hire someone to help me with the heavy work. I had no idea the house had gotten so run down. Do you know anyone I could call?”

  “I’ve got a man that helped me rebuild my barn. We had a lot of damage after the last hurricane and he was a godsend. I hated to see him go, but I didn’t have anything left for him to do at my place. He’s a nice, quiet guy, and does excellent work, but he’s a drifter. His name is Conner McCrae and he works real cheap. I’ve already asked him to come by tomorrow.”

  “Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Holly asked from behind Jordan. “She and her daughter, Lizzy, will be living way out here alone. What do you know about this man?”

  “He gave me a list of people he’d done work for that all sang his praises. I guess he fell on hard times a few years back. Now he just stays to himself and does what he can to get by, but he puts in a hard day’s work. I’ve gotten to know him and I’d trust him with my life. I’m only a half-mile down the road if you need me, but I know he won’t give you any trouble. You won’t find a better worker.” Arnold leaned the old broom in its place at the end of the porch. “I’d better start back home before it gets any later.” He tipped his old straw hat. “Good night ladies.”

  As Holly helped Jordan unload her car, she told her about her husband and two sons. She talked about her job at the local grocery and the upcoming Heritage Day celebration in the park. It was nice to reconnect with her old school pal after seven long years, but the trip from Tampa and Gram’s funeral had worn Jordan out. She couldn’t hold back a big yawn.

  “I have to get back home,” Holly groaned. “Charlie must be going crazy with the boys by now. Promise you’ll call as soon as they get the phone turned on tomorrow. I want to have you over for a barbeque soon. It’s Charlie’s specialty.”

  “I’d love to,” Jordan exclaimed. “I can’t wait to meet your family. Just give me a couple of weeks, though. I have to put some serious work into this house and I need a little time to adjust.”

  “Would you like me to come over in the morning when you meet Mr. Coleman’s handyman? I still feel a little uncomfortable about you being alone out here with him.”

  “No, I’ll be fine. Mr. Coleman wouldn’t send anyone over who he didn’t trust completely. Besides that, you have to go to work tomorrow. I’ll see you when I come into town to do some grocery shopping.”

  Jordan walked upstairs and fell into bed exhausted, physically and mentally. Being in Gram’s house again brought back so many memories. This had been her first real home. Her mother had dropped her off here when she was seven. One day when Jordan was in the sixth grade, she’d come home to find a man sitting with her grandparents. He was rolling his hat in his hands, staring at the floor while Gram cried and Pop stared into the fireplace looking devastated. Her mother had been found in an Atlanta hotel room, dead from a drug overdose. Jordan hadn’t known how to feel about it. She didn’t really know her mother. Her grandparents were her family and this was her home. She had been happy here.

  Jordan drifted off to sleep for what seemed like a few minutes.

  “Mom, mom, mom, mom…”

  Jordan opened one eye to find Lizzy lying beside her, her face a mere three inches away. She lifted herself on one elbow to see the alarm clock over her daughter’s head. It was eight o’clock. She flopped on her back, waiting for the fuz
ziness in her head to clear. It took a moment to realize that she was lying in her grandmother’s bed, in her grandmother’s house.

  For the first time in years, she’d slept through the night without waking at every little sound. She hadn’t jumped from the bed with a feeling of stark fear. She and her daughter were safe.

  “What’s for breakfast, Mommy? I’m starving.” Lizzy squirmed out of her embrace and off the bed. She stood in her pink nightgown and bare feet, her copper colored hair, in tangles, caught the sunlight. Jordan could see the dusting of freckles over the little girl’s nose. She had always hated her own auburn hair and freckles, but they were adorable on Lizzy.

  “One of Gram’s friends sent a coffee cake yesterday, but I don’t have any milk. Would you like to have a cup of tea with me, like a big girl?”

  “Well, I guess, but just this once. It’s not really good for me you know.”

  “I know, but I promise that I’ll get you some milk when I go to the store.”

  Lizzy jumped from the bed to run out of the room. She stopped in the hall and yelled back, “Do you think the man outside will want some tea, too, Mommy?”

  “What man?”

  “The man under your car,” Lizzy answered matter-of-factly as she ran on ahead.

  Jordan finished fastening the snap on her jeans before she opened the front door. And yes, a man was just coming out from under her car. Even with his back to her, she knew she’d never seen him before. Not a lot of men were that much taller than her. Not many men had hair almost as long as hers. His was blond and braided halfway down his muscular back. His fists at the waist of his tight black T-shirt showed off the bulging muscles in his arms. The faded jeans were snug over well-shaped legs. And it was all topped by a well-worn straw cowboy hat. Nope, she would have definitely remembered him. The stranger alert in her head went off like fourth-of-July fireworks.

  “If you’re checking for a low-jack, I have to warn you…that car is not worth the trouble of stealing.” Sarcasm was her first shield of defense.

  He looked over his shoulder with a smile that revealed even white teeth and light blue eyes in contrast to his darkly tanned skin. “I was trying to see what’s leaking under there. I think you may have a problem.”

  “Oh great!” Jordan stomped down the steps. “That’s just what I need right now!” She stopped beside him and contemplated the puddle under the front half of her car.

  “Well, don’t worry.” He kept his head down and his hat low. “I do cars as well as houses and lawn work. Looks like you could use all my services. This place is a mess.”

  “You must be the man that Mr. Coleman told me about. If you’re trying to charm me into hiring you, you’ve gotten off to a damn good start.”

  “Sorry, but I call ’em as I see ’em. I heard that the place had been empty for a few years and it shows.”

  “I didn’t expect you so early. We haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

  “Hey, mister, you want some tea?” Lizzy bounded down the steps in her nightgown. She lost her footing on the bottom step and pitched forward onto the dirt path. The man’s reflexes were faster than Jordan’s. As he picked Lizzy up his hat fell behind him. He stood her in front of him to dust away the dirt and inspect the scrape on her knee.

  “How’d you get that big scar on your face?” Lizzy blurted.

  “I got cut with a knife, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as falling from the porch steps. You must be a very brave girl.”

  “I am. How did you get cut with a knife? Mom doesn’t let me touch knives.”

  “Lizzy, don’t be so nosy.” By this time Jordan had recovered from the shock of seeing the deep scar. It ran down the man’s left cheek, into his short beard, and under the collar of his shirt.

  “It’s okay. Kids are always curious. It’s best to let them ask.” He picked up his hat and hit it against his leg to knock off the dirt before he put it back on. He turned back to her daughter. “You know Lizzy, it doesn’t really matter how it happened. It just shows you how dangerous knives can be. I guess it’ll be a good idea to listen to your mom about that kind of stuff.”

  “I do,” Lizzy replied. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Connor McCrae. I came by to talk to your mom. But first she needs to make you some breakfast while I look at her car.”

  “Okay!” Lizzy ran back up the steps.

  “Hey! Slow down before you scuff your other knee.” He watched her with a smile. To Jordan he said, “That little girl must be a handful.”

  “I’m Jordan Holbrook.” As she shook his hand she sized him up and figured him to be about six-feet-five. Up close he didn’t look too much older than her. “Thanks for being so nice to Lizzy. She can be a bit forward sometimes. I hope she didn’t say anything to embarrass you.”

  “Of course not. She’s a great kid.” He held his hand out. “Give me your keys and I’ll look at the car while you eat. I should have an idea about the rest of the work to be done around here soon, too.”

  Jordan watched Connor walk around the house and property most of the day. She tried to keep her mind on her own work, but it was disconcerting to have a stranger on the premises conducting a silent inspection.

  Lizzy had spent the day putting her room in order and had stayed out of the way, for the most part.

  When the kitchen had been scrubbed to her satisfaction, Jordan realized that it was getting dark. She folded the dishtowel over the oven handle and walked upstairs to take a shower. She was exhausted. Lizzy had fallen asleep just after dinner. It was time to pamper herself for a little while.

  ****

  Bobby Ray Butler watched the sunset through the barred window of his prison cell. He squinted as the florescent lights automatically came on. At nine o’clock they’d turn off again to leave him in darkness. It had been the same for the last five years, five months and twenty days.

  He’d worn the same orange jumpsuits every one of those days. He’d eaten the same tasteless food and walked the same exercise yard. Any time he was outside his cell, he’d had to watch his back. The bad guys here were dirty, diseased, and mean. The good guys fell to them or learned to be just as bad. Bobby Ray had gone to great lengths to avoid all but a select few.

  He earned a miniscule amount of money working on the grounds. Almost every dime of it had gone into pads of paper. The only time his mind was truly calm were the hours he spent sketching his pictures.

  He peeled a picture from the wall where it hung from a small piece of tape he’d had to beg for. He’d never beg for anything again. The circumstance that put him here wasn’t right. A man should be able to trust his wife. King of his castle and all that crap.

  He lifted another picture from the collage on his wall. He’d be getting out soon and wouldn’t leave a single one behind. No one here deserved to even look at them.

  He’d been through hell, but soon it would be his turn to send someone else. The difference was, her hell would be permanent. There’d be no reprieve, no escape, and no second chance.

  ****

  Connor came into contact with Jordan several times that day. He liked what he saw. She had to be almost six-feet-tall and all woman. Not the skinny kind of girl who giggled a lot, but a real woman.

  He could tell she’d just gotten out of bed when they first met. There was nothing to compare with a woman who looked that good first thing in the morning. Her messy hair hung to her waist. It shined like a new penny in the sun. Her chocolate colored eyes sat over lightly freckled cheeks. She had a straight thin nose that led to pretty, coral colored lips. The big T-shirt she’d worn revealed full breasts on a sturdy frame. She wasn’t heavy, but athletic. The kind of woman you just dreamed of holding onto all night long.

  She was the kind of woman who deserved a good-looking man. Not a freak like him. It had probably taken all the willpower she had to look at him. If she weren’t alone and in need of a lot of help, he would just fire up his van and save her the misery.

  Connor sat in the open
back door of his van eating stew from a can that he’d heated over a propane burner. He should have driven into town to have a decent meal at the diner. He didn’t like the idea of leaving the woman and child alone when they’d barely arrived. All they’d brought with them was what they’d packed in a car. So far, they were living on leftovers from a funeral reception. At least the house was still fully furnished. They had good beds to sleep in.

  He was getting tired of living out of the confines of the old Dodge, but that was what his life had come to. He could hardly remember what it felt like to sleep in a normal bed. Would the nightmares still plague him every night in a real bed?

  His eyes moved over the side of the house and up to the second floor windows. She was sitting in her room, brushing her hair. The name Jordan suited her. He liked it.

  He imagined himself in that window standing behind Jordan. He would brush her hair aside and place a soft kiss on the curve of her neck and gaze into the mirror to meet her eyes. For a moment they would still be closed as she took a long breath. Then her eyes would open and she would look back at him. What would he see in those beautiful brown eyes, pity or revulsion?

  Connor threw the half-eaten can of stew into the trashcan before he pulled his legs up and slid the door shut, blocking out the view. What had he been thinking? He’d never be able to have a woman like her.

  Chapter Two

  Jordan heard the slide and click of the van’s door against the silence outside. She hadn’t realized Connor was still out there. The old van looked dark and lonely in the dim moonlight. She hadn’t seen him around the house since nightfall. She’d assumed that he’d gone home. Mr. Coleman had said he was a drifter. Perhaps that van was his home. He must be so lonely in such cramped quarters, but lonely was lonely no matter where you were. Would he be any lonelier than her tonight?

  She slid under the covers and snuggled her pillow, alone. Why couldn’t love be like they showed in the movies, or wrote in books? She imagined the feel of a hard, warm chest under her hands. She could almost hear a strong heartbeat under her ear. He would bring his folded arms down from behind his head to circle them around her. She pictured that battered old cowboy hat resting in the chair across the room.