Читать книгу Texas-Sized Trouble - Barb Han - Страница 11

Chapter Three

Downtown Braxton, Texas, had a post office, a diner, a bank and a city hall. The diner was across the street from city hall and anchored an otherwise empty strip center. Ryder parked, fed the meter and then opened Faith’s door for her.

“You still haven’t told me what we’re doing here,” she said, taking his hand.

He ignored the frisson of heat where their fingers touched. Sexual chemistry wasn’t the problem between them, never had been. Trust was, and it appeared to be an issue on both sides. As for him, there’d be no way to get around her deception and build any kind of bond. Yes, he was still angry at her, and that was why he didn’t want to think about the attraction he felt or anything else that didn’t directly impact finding Nicholas.

“She’ll come and then she’ll be ready to talk,” he said. “She needs a minute to come to terms with the fact that you care.”

“How do you know that?” Faith didn’t bother to hide her frustration; angry lines creased her forehead.

“Curiosity will get the best of her. She loves him. I could see it in her eyes. She wants to find him as much as we do, and we planted the seed that we’re concerned,” he clarified.

“I hope you’re right,” she said.

“She’s also proud. She might not take care of him the way you would but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love him. He might be the only family she has and she won’t let go easily,” he clarified.

“Celeste didn’t get what she wanted from my dad. I figured she was just using him, maybe even got pregnant on purpose hoping for a free ride. But she kept Nicholas and has been bringing him up ever since even though my dad was a jerk and refused to pay support,” she said thoughtfully.

He didn’t address the irony of that idea given their current situation, and she acknowledged that she was thinking the same thing with a quick flash of her eyes toward him. It was a good sign that she’d calmed down and could think through the situation clearly. Faith was smart.

“Oh, no.” She suddenly stopped at the diner door, turned and ran toward the trash can.

“What is it?” he asked.

“This isn’t good.” She bent over and clutched her stomach. “I feel awful.”

“Is it the baby?” Her expression made him worry that something might be truly wrong. A feeling of panic struck his chest faster than stray lightning and he was caught off guard by the jolt of fear that came with thinking something serious might be wrong.

“What can I do?” he asked as she emptied her stomach. He followed her and held her hair back from her face, helpless to offer any real comfort. He could see that her cheeks were flushed. The back of her neck was hot to the touch despite the frigid temps, so he swept her hair off her neck to cool her down, offering what little support he could.

“Sorry,” she said before emptying another round into the trash can.

“Don’t apologize for being sick. What do you need?” Watching her retch over a garbage bin made him wish he could do something to make it better. Anything besides just keep her neck cool. He’d never felt so useless in his life.

When she was finished, she glanced up at him looking embarrassed.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I should’ve skipped that cup of decaf I had this morning on an empty stomach.” She leaned against a brick pillar next to the garbage can for support. “I’ll be fine in a few minutes. It’s probably just nerves.”

She looked at him and must’ve seen the panic in his eyes.

“Promise. It’ll pass. I went through worse than this in those first few months,” she said.

“Hold on.” He retrieved a bottle of water from the cab of his truck, unscrewed the lid and handed it to her. “Maybe this’ll help.”

She rinsed her mouth out before wetting a cloth and dabbing it on her face. “That’s much better, actually. Thank you.”

He shouldn’t feel such a strong sense of satisfaction. He needed to be stockpiling reserves against that dam he’d built, tossing bags of sand against it for reinforcement, because seeing the way she looked a few moments ago had threatened to put a crack in a wall he couldn’t afford to break.

An old two-door hatchback buzzed into the parking spot on the other side of Ryder’s truck with Celeste behind the wheel.

“You’re sure you’re better?” he asked Faith, relieved that her color was returning.

“Yeah. Much. The cold weather is helping.”

“Let’s get inside before she sees us out here and takes off. We have a better chance of getting her to open up if she can’t easily hop into her car if you say anything to frustrate her.”

Faith shot him a severe look.

“Hey, I’m just making sure she doesn’t slam the door in our face again,” he said, taking her arm. Holding on to her was a bad idea, especially while she seemed so vulnerable. He ignored the hammering against the fault line of the dam wall and the way his pulse picked up as he guided her inside the diner, chalking his reaction up to residual sexual chemistry. Even through her coat he felt the sizzle between them. “Table for two.”

The place had about twenty tables in a dining space to the left and a counter with bar stools for quick service on his right. There were plenty of windows at the front and only a few customers. Most of whom were spread around at tables in the back.

“Sit anywhere you like,” a waitress said from behind the counter. She was filling an old-fashioned soda glass from a spout.

Ryder motioned toward a booth in front near the half wall of windows, farthest away from anyone else in the hopes that Celeste would feel more comfortable talking. As it was, she looked ready to turn tail and run, and he couldn’t afford to lose his only lead. Faith was right earlier. They would circle back to talk to neighbors. He didn’t expect to net much since no one had come outside to check on why the dogs were barking earlier. Even if someone had peeked from behind a curtain, they wouldn’t talk. Celeste’s was a neighborhood that minded its own business.

Faith took off her coat and laid it across the booth before taking a seat. Ryder didn’t bother to remove his jacket.

The two of them had just sat down and gotten comfortable when Celeste walked inside. She made eye contact with Ryder almost immediately and he could see just how tentative her trust in either of them was. It didn’t matter. She was there. And he’d dealt with enough injured and spooked animals over the years to know it was in his and Faith’s best interest to tread lightly.

Celeste had thrown on a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt underneath a long coat and furry boots. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a loose bun. She didn’t look much older than his eldest brother, Dallas, now that she was cleaned up. Fifteen years ago, she would’ve been barely been twenty years old. Faith’s father was a real jerk for taking advantage of someone so young and then leaving when she was in trouble. But then Hollister McCabe had never been known for his morals. His being a jerk was most likely for sport.

Ryder glanced at Faith’s stomach as Celeste pulled a chair up to the booth, hoping the stress of the morning wasn’t taking a toll. He also wanted to get some food inside her now that he knew she hadn’t eaten breakfast. That couldn’t be good for her or the baby.

The waitress popped over and asked for drink orders.

“Coffee for me.” He looked at Celeste, who nodded. “Make that two. Can we get some water and toast for my friend?”

A quick look at Faith showed she appreciated the gesture. Thankfully, she’d taken his earlier warning seriously and seemed to realize that it was best to leave the talking up to him.

“You need menus?” the waitress asked.

“Yes,” Ryder said. “And can we get a rush on that toast?”

The waitress disappeared, returning a minute later with drinks, menus and toast. She set everything down and then said she’d give them a minute. Celeste shifted in her seat a few times, looking ready to bolt at a loud noise.

“I wasn’t going to show but I figured you asked about the diner loud enough so I could hear it on purpose in case I changed my mind about talking,” she said, staring at the fork rolled in a paper napkin. She seemed conflicted about being there. “You seem like you want to help. And I’m starting to get real worried about my boy.”

Ryder nodded, letting her take the lead. He’d learned a long time ago that when someone was making an effort, it wasn’t smart to get in their way.

“First off, I don’t trust anyone with the last name McCabe.” She glanced toward Faith, who was nibbling on her toast.

“I don’t, either, if it makes you feel better,” Ryder said, not bothering to mask his disdain for the McCabe family.

Celeste cocked her head sideways.

“I’m here to help find your son and I still haven’t exactly figured out how I was talked into it,” he said honestly. There was no reason to lie to the woman, and he figured they’d get further if he gained Celeste’s trust.

“Since you showed up with a McCabe, I have to ask why you care about what happens to my boy.”

“Faith and I have history. She’s worried about Nicholas and couldn’t go to her father. I’m not exactly thrilled to be here, but I couldn’t walk away from someone asking for my help, either.”

“Okay then.” She must’ve picked up on the tension between him and Faith because she shot another contemptuous look toward Faith.

“We might not want it for the same reasons, but we all want the same thing. To find Nicholas and bring him home safely,” Ryder said. “It doesn’t matter why.”

Celeste nodded. Her shoulders slumped forward and she looked completely wrung out. “I didn’t sleep last night from worry. At first I thought he found a girl and ran off.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Faith said a little too intensely.

“How would you know?” Celeste said with disdain.

Faith suddenly became interested in the tabletop. “I know my brother.”

A noise tore from Celeste’s throat. “You don’t know fifteen-year-old boys.”

“Nicholas isn’t like that,” Faith said, her defenses rattled. Her reaction was putting Celeste on edge, and that wasn’t going to get them what they wanted: her cooperation.

“I can remember a few times when I did stupid stuff at that age. Hormones and a still-developing brain don’t exactly make the best combination,” Ryder intervened with a warning look toward Faith.

Celeste angled her body toward him, effectively closing Faith out of the conversation. “My point exactly. He’s a good boy but that don’t mean nothing when it comes to teenage hormones. That’s what I thought three days ago. Now, I don’t know. It ain’t like him not to call. He’s never done that before.”

“What about his actions in the days leading up to his...” He didn’t want to say the word disappearance. “Had he been staying out later than usual?” Ryder hoped to cash in on her conspiratorial feelings.

“Not that I know of,” she said with a tentative glance toward Faith. “I work nights but he’s always there by the time I get home the next morning.”

“What time is that usually?” Ryder asked, nodding his head. Celeste was holding something back. What?

“There’s no set time,” she said.

“Bar closes at two o’clock,” Faith said, scorn in her tone. “Nicholas said she doesn’t come home until the next morning and sometimes until lunch.”

Ryder shot her one of his you’re-not-helping looks and then refocused on Celeste.

“Was he hanging out with any new people or had his behavior at school changed recently?” Ryder pressed. “Any notes or calls from the counselor?”

“None. No new people, either. At least none that I know of, but then boys don’t exactly tell their mothers every little detail,” she said after a thoughtful pause and a long hard look at Faith.

“What about his cell phone?” he asked. “I’m sure you’ve tried calling. Texting? I’m guessing there’s been no response.”

“None. And I haven’t seen or heard it since he left. Figured he took it with him. That thing goes everywhere with him, including the bathroom.”

“Did you search his bedroom for it?” Faith asked, looking determined to get her two cents in. Ryder had never been able to control her, and maybe that was the point. Maybe she was showing him that she was the one who should be in charge. Or maybe it was genuine concern for her little brother, a brother who’d been abandoned by her side of the family and who needed her help. Either way, her talking wasn’t a good thing. If he’d known her presence would cause this much of a stir with Celeste, he would’ve come alone.

He took a sip of his black coffee while Celeste shot Faith a sour look.

Celeste fished out her cell phone, entered a password onto the screen and pulled up her message history. “Look, he makes me text him every night to make sure I got in my car safe. No one’s ever done that for me before. Plus, he hasn’t tried to get a hold of me using anyone else’s phone, either.” She flashed her eyes at Faith. “I know my Nicholas is a good boy but even the nice ones get mixed up in the wrong crowd sometimes. That’s what I figured happened when he didn’t respond to my text three nights ago. It’s not like him to stay away this long, and that has me figuring he’s done something he shouldn’t. Something real ba—”

“He wouldn’t—” Faith started to say, but Ryder shushed her.

“Let her finish,” he said with a look that said this would all be over if she kept pressing her agenda. Nicholas’s mother was talking to them, and Faith needed to cool it.

Celeste pulled a piece of paper out of her purse and flattened it on the table.

“Look there. Doesn’t seem like you know Nicholas as much as you claim to.” She fired the accusation directly at Faith.

It was a note from Nicholas, saying that it was his mother’s turn to wait up for him and wonder where he was for a change.

Faith’s face went blank.

“Can I see that?” Faith asked.

Celeste didn’t immediately move.

“Please. Just for a second,” Faith said, softer this time.

The woman relented.

Faith took the paper and then studied the words as she traced her finger around the shapes.

“Nicholas didn’t write that.” She folded her arms with that indignant look on her face again. Before Ryder could remind her that she wasn’t helping, she scooted back in her seat.