Evan saw red and slammed his fist down on the table. “She’s mine. Tell them to back the fuck off or I’ll crush every one of them, officer of the law or not.”
He flew completely off his rocker at the thought of Randi being with anyone but him, and his fury blinded him to the fact that he never lost his temper completely. Not that he would have given a damn even if he was rational enough to think about it.
His brothers just grinned.
“Did you see Elsie’s article in the paper today, dear?”
Randi had popped into Natural Elements to see how Beatrice had weathered the blizzard. Obviously, she was doing fine. The elderly woman’s enthusiasm was infectious.
“She’s got an article out today?” Randi asked curiously as she looked at the eclectic collection of items for sale in the store. “I’m surprised, since the snow just stopped last night.”
Beatrice’s head bobbed excitedly. “Yep. She titled it ‘Blockbuster Movie Star Coming to Amesport.’”
Randi laughed as she listened to the drama in Beatrice’s voice as she relayed the title of Elsie’s article.
“He’s single,” she reminded the self-proclaimed matchmaker with a wink. Julian Sinclair coming to Amesport really was a big deal because he’d become a box-office sensation, but Randi supposed his family was trying to keep his presence as quiet as possible. Elsie Renfrew—or Elsie the Informer, as most of them called her when she wasn’t present—was Beatrice’s bosom buddy, and still wrote for the Amesport newspaper. Randi wasn’t sure how either one of them had known about the Sinclair cousins coming into Amesport, but somehow they had. No doubt they had finagled the information from one of the family. Beatrice and Elsie might look like two sweet little old ladies, but they were merciless when it came to getting the scoop on town gossip. Randi had known them both long enough to ignore their seemingly innocent probing questions.
“I know, dear, but he won’t be single for long,” Beatrice told her confidently. “His destiny is here.”
Randi fingered the Apache tear in her pocket, thinking how wrong Beatrice had been in her prediction for her. The only man Randi really wanted was totally unavailable to a woman like her. Her anger with Evan was already diminishing. What had she expected? Had she wanted him to tell her that it didn’t matter if she got pregnant? That wouldn’t have been logical or reasonable. In truth, she didn’t want to be a single mother, but she did want children someday.
She had gone into the sexual relationship knowing nothing more could ever happen with Evan. It was her that wanted something more; not him. She really had no right to expect any other reaction than one of relief. Randi knew she should feel the same way. Oddly, she didn’t.
“You think he doesn’t care about you?” Beatrice asked as she ran a feather duster over the shelves.
“I know he doesn’t,” Randi agreed, leaning back against the counter of the store.
“You’re wrong,” Beatrice chirped. “He hides a lot, but the truth will come out eventually.”
“He’s not for me, Beatrice.”
“This isn’t one of my errors. My spirit guides seem to be strong with the Sinclairs,” Beatrice said firmly.
Randi smiled. She wasn’t about to break the news that she thought Beatrice’s spirit guides had dementia.
“I have to run,” she told her warmly. “Lily is in the car.”
She hadn’t been home, so she was still carrying her dog around with her.
Beatrice turned and speared Randi with a pointed look. “Don’t give up. He’s worth the wait. He was always going to be a tough nut to crack.”
Randi nodded even though she wasn’t a believer in Beatrice’s predictions. At least not this one. “What about the cousins?” she asked, wondering what Beatrice was likely to predict for them.
“They all belong here, and I’ve already had dreams about the first one.”
Poor guys. The Sinclair cousins have no idea what’s coming.
She highly doubted any of the cousins were going to move to Amesport. Micah was into extreme sports, Julian’s place was in Hollywood, and Xander the bad boy had to be out painting a big city red to remain happy. Not a single one of them belonged here.
“Take care of yourself, Beatrice,” Randi said fondly as she reached for the door.
“You too, honey, and remember what I said. You two were meant to be.”
Shoving the door open, Randi called back, “Thanks, Beatrice.”
Once outside, Randi sprinted to her vehicle with a shake of her head. Poor Beatrice was destined for failure on this prediction. She just didn’t know it yet.
Later that afternoon, Randi had a tutoring session at the Center. School would start up again tomorrow, but she’d committed to an appointment, and she was glad Matt’s mother hadn’t canceled.
She’d been working with him on his reading, one of the third grader’s problem areas.
“It doesn’t make sense,” the child complained, frustrated as he tried to read a passage in a storybook.
“It will,” Randi encouraged. “You just have to keep trying. Sound the word out,” she told him with a patient smile. “You’ll get it.”
Matt was smart, but unfortunately he needed more one-on-one time, something that she wasn’t able to give him in class. She’d asked his parents to start sending him to her free tutoring sessions at the Center, and she made sure to carve out an afternoon where she could work with him alone.
Catching a brief movement out of the corner of her eye, Randi turned her head to see Evan watching her and Matt as they struggled through the book. His shoulder was comfortably propped against the doorframe, so he’d obviously been there for a while.
He was dressed in a power suit again, and his expression was darkly brooding. Putting his hands into the pockets of his wool coat, he strolled into the room as he spoke. “It will take him at least four times as long for word recognition. What he sees isn’t the same as what other kids see. His brain is wired differently. Sometimes he won’t be able to connect a word with an object or a meaning. Sarcasm might be hard to understand sometimes, and he might have problems finding the right words to say. Joking around might be something he can’t always grasp, so he might be uncomfortable with it sometimes. But he can be just as accomplished as any other child.”
Randi stared at Evan, dumbfounded at his words before the lightbulb went off in her head. There had been subtle signs: his need for extreme organization and rigid routine, him asking her to dial her own phone number instead of doing it himself, his quirk of sometimes taking things seriously that were actually teasing, and his drive and determination to succeed when he was already more accomplished than most men in the world.
Evan had way overcompensated for his disability.
“You’re dyslexic?” It was almost an unnecessary question. After Evan had stated accurate facts and she’d pieced things together, she was certain of her conclusion.