Free Love Will Find a Way by Barbara Freethy Page B

Dylan's as if he would rip out the truth with one drilling look.
    "I was busier then. My schedule has changed," Dylan answered smoothly, hoping John would leave it at that. He didn't want to get into his personal reasons for saying no.
    "Rachel and Wesley don't need any more disappointments."
    "I don't plan on disappointing them."
    John stared at him for a moment longer, then nodded. "Make sure that you don't."
    Dylan supposed he could have taken offense at the tone, but it was obvious that the man adored his granddaughter and his great-grandson. "I won't," he promised. "The last thing I want to do is hurt them in any way."
    "Good. Do you play poker?"
    "Once in a while."
    A small, knowing smile played around the corner of John's mouth. "Figured you would. A better poker face I have yet to see. Now, Gary, he couldn't hide a damn straight to save his life."
    "No, he couldn't," Dylan agreed. They'd played many a card game over the years, starting back in high school in Jimmy Baker's garage. Gary had always lost, completely unable to hide his joy in a good hand or his frustration in a bad one.
    John rested his arms on the table. "Since this insurance thing came up, Rachel has some doubts about Gary. Oh, she doesn't say so, but I can see it in her eyes. What about you?"
    "I think Gary died in an accident," Dylan replied firmly. "I'm going to do whatever I can to prove it."
    "Good. It's hard enough to lose someone you love. Losing the good memories makes it even harder. And Rachel, she couldn't take another ..." John's voice drifted off.
    "Another what?" Dylan asked.
    "Doesn't matter. I got a poker game Saturday night, seven-thirty, in the barn. We could use another player. You in?"
    Dylan hesitated. He was here to finish the house, to look into Gary's death, not to play poker.
    "Don't say no. The other boys will want to meet you. And they knew Gary. You might learn something."
    "All right."
    "Now, let me tell you about the other players," John began.
    Dylan only half listened as John discussed the strengths and weaknesses of his poker buddies. His thoughts were with Rachel. He wondered what John had been alluding to -- another what? Had there been another man in her life? One before Gary? But she'd been nineteen. And he couldn't remember her talking about any other relationships. So another what? Another betrayal? Another affair? Was there something Rachel and John knew about Gary that Dylan didn't? But he'd been Gary's best friend. Gary had told him everything, usually more than he'd wanted to know.
    There weren't any secrets, he told himself. So why couldn't he believe that?
    * * *
    "Eavesdropping?" Marge asked lightly as she handed Rachel a pan to dry.
    Rachel moved away from the kitchen door and took the pan from her grandmother. "No, of course not."
    "I don't think Dylan scares easily."
    "What does that mean?"
    "That your grandfather couldn't scare him away."
    "Why would he try?"
    "I didn't say he would."
    "Well, what are you saying, then?" Rachel asked in exasperation.
    Marge gave a little laugh. "That I don't think Dylan needs your protection. You don't have to rush back into the dining room and save him from some third degree." Marge turned to Wesley. "Oh, dear. I forgot to feed Mr. Bones before I came over. Wesley, honey, would you run over to my house and give Mr. Bones some doggie dinner?"
    "Okay, Grandma," Wesley said, bolting out the back door.
    "You never forget to feed Mr. Bones," Dee observed. "So why exactly did you want to get rid of Wesley? Never mind, I know why."
    Rachel frowned as her grandmother and aunt turned to her. "What now?"
    "You, Rachel. You're like a cat on a hot tin roof. What's going on?" Marge asked.
    "Nothing."
    "Dylan makes her uncomfortable," Dee said as she put the remains of dinner in the refrigerator.
    "Maybe a little," Rachel admitted. "He might have been Gary's best friend, but he's not mine. And it's not right that he's here."
    "Because Gary is not," Marge said with sympathy in her eyes.