Читать книгу Part Time Cowboy - Maisey Yates - Страница 11
ОглавлениеSADIE MILLER, IT TURNED OUT, was incapable of following orders. She’d done nothing but change things in the two days since she’d breezed onto the Garrett family ranch, and she showed no sign at all of stopping.
First of all, she’d had a crew there reconditioning the wood, stripping paint. Then she’d followed behind, repainting trim. She was like a little blonde windup toy, and every time Eli drove on the road to Connor’s house or the main part of the ranch, he caught glimpses of her working outside the house. He could always resolve to hole up on his end of the property. The road to his own house ran the opposite direction, but that would mean no visiting with his family, and no ranch work. And he wasn’t that desperate to avoid her.
Still, he didn’t want to catch glimpses of her. He didn’t want her there. And dammit, even he knew that verged on curmudgeonly. But he couldn’t be bothered to care. He had things happening in his life. Important things. And he didn’t need her wandering around the place like a breeze-blown hippie.
Shit, he was uptight. But even so, he hated the feeling of an interloper on Garrett land, and yeah, dammit, he was totally a curmudgeon. There was no denying it. But it just felt...invasive.
He didn’t like change. He didn’t like people crowding. It was a habit from childhood. They didn’t have friends over, well, friends other than Jack Monaghan, and they didn’t invite company in past the front porch. They didn’t let them see what was inside. They didn’t let anyone know the extent to which things had fallen apart.
It was a habit that died hard. Or not at all.
Eli pulled his car past the Catalog House, determined not to look again. Determined not to care. He’d promised Connor and Jack an evening of poker and beer and he planned to deliver. Connor would probably be happy as hell if they canceled, which was one reason he was determined not to.
He parked in front of the porch and looked up at the house. When Jessie had lived there, it had looked nicer than it ever had in Eli’s memory. And everything had slipped since losing her.
Connor’s muddy boots and other random castaways from a day’s work were spread out on the wooden deck, which was in bad need of staining. The windows, vast and prominent, were spotted with water drops and splattered with dirt. Even the door had dirty handprints. Like a very large child lived here. A man child who’d crawled down into a bottle of whiskey the day his wife had been put in the ground.
A man who echoed their father a little too much. Not that Eli had a right to judge, considering that he’d never loved anyone. Not the way Connor had loved Jessie.
He’d never lost like that as a result, either, and he planned to keep it that way.
He got out of the car and noticed Jack’s F-150 was already parked in the muddy driveway—which badly needed to be graveled, Eli would handle that—and he walked up the steps, knocking his boots against the top stair to get some of the mud off before pushing the front door open.
He could hear Jack’s voice already—animated, loud, the same as he’d been since they were a bunch of skinny preteen boys. Jack was a year younger than Eli, but had always been close to both Connor and himself. If Eli had gotten in trouble as a kid, Jack was the reason. As much as Eli liked order, Jack liked disrupting it. Eli couldn’t help but foster a strange admiration for Jack’s total disregard for rules.
He couldn’t partake, but he could admire. From a distance.
“The police are here,” Eli said drily, walking through the entryway and into the dining room, where Connor and Jack were already seated, a stack of cards and poker chips in the middle of the table.
“Sadly,” Jack said, “we haven’t had the chance to do anything illegal yet.”
Connor just sat there looking long-suffering. It was painfully obvious they were trying to pull him out of the pit he was in, and as always, he was so damned aware of it that he’d dug his heels in and was clinging to rock bottom for all he was worth. Stubborn ass.
“And now you won’t get a chance. Are we ready to play? And drink? Thankfully, I’m within walking distance so sobriety is not a necessity.”
“Public drunkenness?” Jack asked.
“Private property.”
“Fair enough.”
“Liss is coming,” Connor said.
“Then why isn’t she here?” Eli asked.
“I invited her,” he ground out. “But she’s not off work yet.”
“So now we have to wait, I take it?”
“She’s bringing the good alcohol,” Connor said.
“Well, in that case,” Jack said, relenting.
“Where’s Kate?” Eli asked.
“Home, I expect,” Connor told him.
Kate lived in another house on the property. It was small, and designed for two people at most, but it was perfect for her.
“Does she know Liss is coming? She might want to see her.” Liss was one of Connor’s best friends, and had been a very close friend of his and Jessie’s, both before and during their marriage. And Kate seemed starved for female companionship, as evidenced by her obvious desire to wrap Sadie Miller up in a blanket like a little stray kitten. But he was not having that. There would be no adopting of Sadie Miller.
He grabbed a beer from the center of the table, out of the bucket of ice emblazoned with the Oregon Ducks O on the side, and popped the top off.
“We don’t really need Katie hanging out and listening to us talk,” Jack said.
“Don’t call her Katie,” Connor said. “She hates that.”
“You call her that exclusively,” Eli reminded him.
“Yeah. I’m her older brother. I can.” He jabbed a finger in Jack’s direction. “He can’t, though.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Connor. Isn’t it hard work being this unpleasant all the time?” Jack asked.
“You’re still here,” Connor said. “The door is open. There are plenty of other men for you to play cards and drink with. Though they’ll never satisfy you the way I do.”
Eli almost choked on his beer. “You have to warn people before you break out random acts of humor, Connor. It’s unexpected.”
“I hate to be predictable.”
“Yeah,” Jack said. “You also hate puppies, rainbows, and I’m pretty sure if compound bow season ever opened on unicorns you’d be first in line.”
Eli heard the front door open, and the sound of feminine shoes on the hardwood floor. Which meant it wasn’t Kate, because she wore boots, just like the rest of them.
“I’m here!”
It was Liss. She breezed into the room, tugging her auburn hair from its bun and shaking her head. “Gah. Nightmare of a day. Going through financial records for...a place. Confidentiality, sorry.”
“Yeah, I know something about that,” Eli said.
“I’m sure you do. But accountant work doesn’t show up on a police scanner.” She set a brown bag on the table. “I come bearing Jack. Daniel’s, that is.”
“Then you can sit down,” Connor said, already reaching for the bag.
Liss frowned.
“Stop it,” he said. “Don’t give me the sad eyes.” He looked around. “This isn’t an intervention, is it?”
“Does it need to be?” Eli asked.
“No. I’m fine. Let’s play cards.”
“Strip poker,” Jack said. “Because Liss is here.”
Liss looked him over, then looked at Connor and Eli. “I’d win that game, Jack. No matter how you cut it.”
“No strip poker,” Eli said.
“You’re just still mad because the last time I talked you into taking your clothes off, when we were about twelve, I think, we ended up getting caught skinny-dipping by that group of high school girls,” Jack said.
“And that was the day I quit listening to you.”
“Less talking. More betting,” Liss said, pounding the table.
“Fine. Fine.”
There was a knock at the door that sounded borderline frantic. And Eli knew that Kate wouldn’t knock.
Connor got up. “Just a sec.”
He walked out of the room and they all watched after him, listening. “Oh! Thank God you’re home.” A woman’s voice.
“I’m always home,” Connor said, his flat tone carrying into the dining room.
Connor. Full of charm as always.
“I’m having a slight disaster.” Oh, no.
“Come in.” Damn.
More footsteps, then Sadie Miller walked into his brother’s dining room.
She was a mess. Her hair was wet and hanging in twisted, yarn-like strands over her face and down her shoulders. She wore a baggy gray sweatshirt that had damp spots spreading wherever her hair touched the fabric. “I’m having a problem,” she said a little bit sheepishly, looking around the table at everyone.
Jack and Liss both looked confused.
“This is Sadie Miller,” Eli said. “Our new tenant in the Catalog House.”
Liss’s eyes darted from Connor back to Sadie. “Oh. Hi. You’re the one doing the B and B?” For some reason, her friendliness sounded forced. And of course Liss knew about the bed-and-breakfast. In fact, Eli had a feeling she’d been involved somehow.
“Yes,” Sadie said. “That would be me. Though, right now the B and B is doing me. So to speak.”
“What happened?” Connor asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Pipes. Burst. And I was trying to—” she brushed wet hair out of her face “—stop it. To a degree. But I couldn’t. So I...uh...wrapped the pipes as best I could and changed and came here. I’m not sure where this falls under our tenant agreement. Technically this had nothing to do with my renovation and everything to do with me trying to shower in the upstairs bathroom.”
Connor’s brows locked together. “Well...hell if I know. I didn’t really anticipate having to be involved.”
Sadie blinked. “Well, we signed a whole...agreement. And there are certain things...as the...the landlord...and...”
Eli sighed. “Would you like me to go and take a look, Connor?”
Connor nodded once. “If you don’t mind.”
I mind. I mothereffing mind. “Nope,” Eli said, sliding his beer toward the center of the table and pushing his chair back to stand.
Sadie was eyeing him warily. “Thank you,” she said, and he could tell she minded about as much as he did. But she had no place to be irked in all this. She was the one who’d chosen to rent a place on his family property.
She was the one with really quite nice breasts, thank you very much, that were causing him some problems currently.
Getting laid in a small town was problematic. Which made breasts that were actually probably no better than average more noticeable than they should be.
She didn’t look hot right now. She looked like a wet hen. He should remember that. He sent a meaningful message below his belt, but he had a feeling it was going to get lost in translation.
Mainly because his body never seemed to want to translate those kinds of messages. But then, what guy’s did?
Especially not when the only company said body had enjoyed for the past six months was that of his right hand.
“All right,” he said, “let’s go check out your disaster. I’ll sit this round out,” he told Jack.
Jack swept the deck of cards to the edge of the table and leaned back, shuffling expertly. “All right, kids, get ready to lose your hard-earned money.”
“Sorry,” Sadie said, as they walked out of the room. “Obviously I’m interrupting.”
“It’s not a big deal. It’s a thing that happens a lot. Poker. I’m not going to miss one game. And the sad fact is, Jack’s right. We’re all going to lose our hard-earned money to him. And he’ll continue the grand tradition of having non...hard-earned money.”
“I bet there’s a story there,” she said.
“Isn’t there always?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah, in my experience, there is. Speaking of—” she pushed the front door open and he followed her onto the porch “—what’s Connor’s story?” The end of the sentence was hushed.
He closed the door, feeling a little uncomfortable having a stranger digging for information. Mainly because he was so used to family junk staying in the family. Because it was still ingrained in him. To keep the exterior looking shiny, no matter how bad the inside was.
But Connor’s deal wasn’t really a secret. A cursory visit to Copper Ridge’s cemetery would tell his story in full.
“I don’t know if you remember Jessie Collins.”
“Vaguely. I might. Did she work at the Crow’s Nest?”
“I think so,” he said, trying not to picture his sister-in-law too clearly. Because it was too sad, even for him.
“Well, she was Jessie Garrett for about eight years. But, uh...she was killed in an accident.”
It was a night Eli would rather forget. He could remember the scene clearly. A dark two-lane highway, and a car wrapped around a tree. He’d known it was too late for whoever was inside. That it had been from the moment of impact. He’d seen too many accidents like that, and not enough miracles.
The car had been so messed up he hadn’t recognized the make or model. Hadn’t realized it was Jessie’s until one of the volunteer firefighters, who’d been first on the scene, had come charging back from the car yelling at him not to come closer.
They’d been trying to spare him because of who it was. But in the end, he’d looked. Because he had to be sure.
And then he’d been the one to officially notify his brother. And nothing in all of his life, in all of his training, had prepared him to stand on the front porch in his uniform and tell his older brother that his beautiful wife wasn’t coming home. Not that night, not any night after.
Damn trees. Damn road. Two people they’d loved lost that way.
Though in their dad’s case, he’d been at clear fault. Alcohol had caused his crash. Jessie had probably swerved to miss a deer, but they’d never know for sure.
“Oh,” Sadie said, her voice muted.
“So he comes by his attitude honestly,” Eli said, walking down the stairs to the driveway. “You want to ride in the patrol car?”
She looked at him, a brow raised. “It’s a short walk. Anyway, I don’t want to have any flashbacks.”
“Emotionally traumatized?”
“Completely.”
“Good. I probably kept your ass out of trouble.”
“Ugh,” she said. “Do not act like you did me any favors. What helped was getting the hell out of this town.”
“Is that what helped?”
“Yeah. There’s not enough options here. And there’s way too much free time. I badly needed to escape.”
“So why are you back?”
She sighed loudly. “Can I get away with repeating what I told you earlier?”
“No.”
“Well, fine. That is just a damn good question.” She took a big step and her foot landed in a pile of sticks that crunched loudly beneath her boot, before she shifted, her other foot making contact with soft dirt as she continued on toward the Catalog House.
“And you don’t have the answer?”
“You know...you have to live somewhere. And I’ve had a hard time finding a place that didn’t...suck. So I’m back here. Because—” she turned partway and offered him a shrug and a sheepish smile, the setting sun igniting a pink halo around her pale hair “—well, I am. And currently, all I’ve achieved is drowned-rat status.”
“Don’t go near the barn. Connor has rat traps.”
“And cats, I hear,” she said, tromping through the tree line and into the driveway of her...his...house. He followed, frowning involuntarily as he caught a glimpse of the bare flower beds. Sure, all that had been in them before was overgrown weeds, but she had them completely stripped now.
“Those are the rat traps I was talking about.”
“Don’t talk about cats that way in front of Toby. He’s sensitive.”
“He’s probably been talking to you about his feelings too much.”
“Was that a therapist joke?” she asked, moving ahead of him and up the stairs to open the front door.
“Yeah, it was. Excuse me, I’m out of practice with jokes.”
“Obviously.”
Her cat was there, on the kitchen table, looking at him pointedly. As if he sensed that Eli had absolutely no use for him, and he was greatly offended by it. Except Eli knew that wasn’t it because it was a cat, and cats had no higher consciousness, as evidenced by their reaction to string.
He stared back at the cat.
“He is unimpressed with you,” she said.
“The feeling is mutual. Now hang on a second while I try to figure out where the water shutoff is.”
“That would be helpful,” she said. “Water shutoff valves would be helpful.”
“Connor should have left you a list of that stuff. Where it all is. Fuse boxes and water mains. Though I’m betting he doesn’t even know where it is here.”
“How long has it been since anyone’s lived here?”
“A couple of years. An older lady rented it for about ten years, until she died.”
“This place is kind of full of sad history,” Sadie said.
“Yeah. Welcome to the Garrett Ranch, where the motto is, if it doesn’t kill you...just wait.”
“That is distasteful. I’m sure.”
“Completely, but also the story of our lives. Now, I’m willing to bet your shutoff is somewhere inconvenient, like...maybe the shed outside?”
“I haven’t looked.”
“All right, come on. If we find it, I can show you how to shut it off.”
“Maybe I know how to shut it off,” she said, following him back out the door and down the stairs. “Maybe I’m a water-valve expert.”
“But you aren’t,” he said, opening the door to the shed.
“Fine. I’m not. But I usually have nearby landlords who...do this for me. Which is sort of what’s happening now, except you’re involving me. Although, I have to say, I have never had a pipe just...explode all over me before. Not a euphemism.”
“How could that be...?”
Her eyes widened and she looked at him meaningfully. “Pipes...burst...liquid all over the... Oh, wow. Think about it. Please don’t make me say it. And I’m going to stop talking now. Please shut my water off.”
Suddenly, he got it. Heat shot from his face down to his groin. This was what happened when he spent six—okay, honestly, it was closer to seven—months without sex. His mind was completely void of anything that went beyond boobs and the innuendo that had just popped up. So to speak. It was enough to...well, as she’d put it, explode his pipe.
He did not have time for this. He didn’t have the patience for it, either.
“Fine,” he growled, stalking to the pipe that was sticking out of the ground in the back of the old building, wrapped in a thick swath of insulation. He reached down and pushed the valve up. “So now your water’s off. Direct me to your flood and I can see if there’s a quick fix that won’t require you to go without water all night.”
“It’s in the upstairs bathroom. So...back to the house. And I hope you’re enjoying this tour of...things that are not finished in the yard,” she said, leading them both back to the house.
“What are you doing with the flower bed?” he asked, looking at the bare dirt.
“I don’t know... Something. I was hoping someone could tell me which plants you...plant here this time of year. I don’t know anything about flowers or grass or... I’m going to do some investigating tomorrow.”
“Haven’t you planted flowers before?”
She shrugged. “There’s never been any point. I leave before anything grows. Or...when I was in San Diego I had an apartment and I had, like, a little pineapple plant in a pot. But some asshole stole it off the balcony. So I figured unless I wanted chains on my potted plants I’d just forget it. This is nice. I don’t have to chain things to the porch.” She opened the front door and walked in, then paused at the base of the stairs. “Up that way. The one off the master bedroom.”
He sighed and walked upward, toward his watery doom. Or something like that.
He could hear her following behind, her footsteps softer and off rhythm to his own.
He walked into the bedroom and saw a few damp footprints on the wood floor, then he looked into the bathroom, where there was a sizable puddle by the sink.
He sighed heavily and got down on his knees, the water seeping through his uniform pants, then he opened the cabinet doors. “What the...hell?”
“I had to improvise,” she said, her voice small.
He leaned in and examined the makeshift stopper she’d wrapped around the pipes. A shirt, a pair of sweatpants and...a black lace bra winding it all together.
“I was about to get in the shower, so I was already naked, and then there was water and so I had to stop it, and then I had to...tie it off. With something. I think that bra is toast.”
He cleared his throat. “Probably.” He reached out and started unwinding the bra, and tried not to think about how this was the first time he’d touched a woman’s underwear in seven—okay, maybe it was more like eight—months.
It was Sadie Miller’s bra. He should focus on that. On the fact that he remembered what a gangly, hissing little miscreant she’d been back when she was a teenager. All long limbs and blond shaggy hair, smelling like booze and cigarette smoke as she kicked at him while he’d tried to put her in handcuffs without breaking her slender wrists.
Sadie Miller’s bra should hold no interest for him. And neither should her breasts. Or her innuendos.
* * *
ELI UNWOUND THE STRAP a little bit more and the rest sprang free, spraying his face with water.
Sadie bit her fist to keep from whimpering as she watched Eli Garrett, on his hands and knees, fiddling with her bra. She was so mortified she wanted to flush herself down the toilet. It would be preferable to this nightmare.
She was just one giant explosion of embarrassment after the other tonight. The whole pipe euphemism? What was her problem? Why did she say things like that around him? Good gravy.
She was good at talking to people. She did it for a living. Spoke with calm authority and with self-control, and with carefully chosen words.
And here she was pointing out every innuendo and dying a million tiny deaths—not in the good French way—like some extra awkward high school geek she’d never been.
What was it about Eli that caused regression? It was a mystery to her. He made her feel flaily. And kind of...horny. And that was just stupid. Cracking lady-wood over a cop said nothing good about her deep emotional issues. She was a therapist. She really should have a better handle on this.
Though she wasn’t really a therapist at the moment. She was a bed-and-breakfast owner who was sinking her life savings into a place with leaky pipes, populated by grumpy, muscular men. Who said she didn’t make good life choices?
He unwound all of her clothing—thank God she hadn’t used her panties. She was just really, really thankful. Then he stood up, the sodden garments in his very large hand, his dark brows drawn together. “This isn’t a quick fix. You will need a plumber. Which my brother will pay for.”
“He said he wasn’t sure where all that fell in the agreement.” She reached out and took the ball of clothes, water dripping onto the floor.
“But I am,” he said, his voice hard. “It’s BS to act like he won’t pay for a burst pipe. Obviously that had nothing to do with your improvements. My brother is just being a lame landlord. Trust me, he’s not doing it on purpose. He’s just...nonfunctional right now.”
Sadie’s heart squeezed tight. “I’m sorry about his wife. I... If he ever needs to talk...”
“He would rather shove barbed wire under his fingernails. And I’m being literal.”
“Okay, then, so maybe vouchers for my services wouldn’t go over well in exchange for this debacle.”
“Connor isn’t a talker,” Eli said.
“Well, big surprise,” she retorted, dumping the wet clothes into the sink and walking out of the space that really was way too small to be sharing with a man of his stature.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It just seems like it runs in the family, that’s all.”
“Meaning?” he asked.
“You’re a little uptight,” she said, walking near the bed and feeling a sudden surge of heat and self-consciousness. Dear Lord, it was like she wasn’t even an adult anymore. Internally jittering because she was standing near both a man and a bed and they were alone.
“If by uptight you mean responsible for a shit-ton of stuff, sure,” he bit out, “I’m uptight. Do you need water?”
“I have some,” she said. “All over my floor.”
“That isn’t what I meant,” he said, his civility clearly almost at an end. “You’re going to need...coffee in the morning at least, I assume, and you need to shower.”
She lifted a shoulder. “It wouldn’t hurt.”
“Either Connor will get his ass in gear and try to fix this tomorrow, or we’ll want to call out a plumber. Either way you don’t have water tonight, because the main has to stay shut off since the pipes are so old. And it means you don’t have water until midmorning tomorrow. So, would you like to come to my place and shower and get a couple gallons of water?”
She blinked. “I...uh...”
“It’s a simple question.”
“I just didn’t expect you to extend me hospitality,” she said.
“I’m not a complete asshole.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“You say that like you don’t believe me.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, Eli, but whenever you’re around I get a tension headache. Or I end up in handcuffs. So, suffice it to say, I’m not entirely convinced that you aren’t a total asshole. Sorry.”
And she also wasn’t convinced she wanted to go to his house and get naked when he was in a nearby room. And run her hands all over her wet, slick skin, which would inevitably feel really good. And with his image so very large in her mind...
Yeah, well, again, she regressed in the company of this man. What grown woman worried about this stuff? It was...prurient. And juvenile. And things.
She needed both a shower and some water and the man was offering. So she should stop sweating, and stop insulting him, and just go with it.
“That would be great, actually,” she said. “And I’m sorry about the asshole thing.”
He put his hands on his lean hips and she took a moment to admire him. His uniform conformed to every muscle in his body; the tan shirt and dark brown tie, along with the gold-star-shaped badge honest-to-coffee did things to her insides that were unseemly.
Obviously she needed to buy batteries for her long-neglected vibrator. Dammit, how sad was it that her vibrator was neglected. A sex life, sure. People had crap to do. Who had time to go around hooking up and sweating and making walks of shame? She certainly didn’t.
But she barely took the time to orgasm anymore. And when she did, she had to kick Toby out of the room, because it was awkward, and then it sort of felt like she was announcing her masturbatory intentions to her cat, which felt even weirder. There was something unspeakably sad about the whole thing.
But that was the reason Eli’s presence had her so shaken. That was her story, and she was sticking to it.
“Whatever,” he said. “Come with me.”
He certainly didn’t make a big song and dance about graciousness. He almost seemed burdened by inescapable chivalry, which was sort of hilarious, or would be if she wasn’t so busy marinating in her embarrassment.
“Let me get some clothes,” she said. “You can wait downstairs.” Because she would probably fizzle into an ash ball and blow away in the wind if he watched her pull a new bra out of a drawer.
“Fine,” he said, walking out of the bedroom and swinging the door partway closed. She waited until she heard his footsteps on the stairs before rummaging for new clothes. She pulled out a long-sleeved thermal shirt and a pair of black yoga pants, and a new bra and panties. And then she got a duffel bag to conceal it all in.
She stuffed the clothes inside and walked downstairs to where Eli was waiting, standing there staring at Toby, who was still on the table, looking defiant.
“I’m ready,” she said. “Do you have jugs at your place?”
“Yes,” he said. “We always save a bunch for target practice, so that won’t be a problem.”
Holy hell, she really wasn’t in San Diego anymore. She was in Oregon, no question at all. “I should have guessed.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, holding the door for her.
“Nothing. I just forgot the kinds of things you good ol’ boys get up to in your spare time. I’ve been living in a city, if you recall.”
“You’ve been gone for how long?” he asked, walking down the front porch steps. She followed him closely, clutching her bag to her chest. Looking at his dark brown pants, which seemed to be giving his butt a hug while shouting, “Look at it! Look at it!”
“Ten years.”
“And where have you been in those ten years?”
“Polite conversation?” she asked.
“Why don’t we try it?”
“I’m game if you are. Okay, I went to three different schools in four years. I started in Tampa, because, parties and the beach. Which is nothing like the beach here. Turns out, I hate college parties and breathing in Florida is like inhaling soup. So I lasted a year there. I basically toured the South.” She increased her pace to keep up with Eli’s long strides, following him down the darkened driveway. He pulled a flashlight off his belt and used it to light up the bark-laden ground. “Louisiana, North Carolina, and after I graduated I went to Texas, which you really don’t want to mess with, just ask the locals.”
“After that you went to California?” he asked.
“Nope. After that there was New York, Chicago and Branson.”
“Branson?”
“Missouri. It’s Las Vegas for families, Eli. Incidentally, I also lived in Vegas, but not for long. Then I went to the Bay Area and quickly discovered I couldn’t afford to live there unless I wanted to donate a kidney to science, and then I went to San Diego. And now I’m back...here.”
He stopped walking, the flashlight beam still directed at the ground. “I can’t imagine picking up and moving that much.”
“No?”
“I’ve got too much to pack up and bring with me. You know, Connor, Kate, all their stuff. The cows. Plus, there’s this land. Our family land.”
“Yeah, well, it’s just me and Toby. We travel light.”
He started walking again, continuing on straight down the drive. “I’ll regret asking this, because...I shouldn’t care. But what the hell did you expect to find moving from place to place?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Everywhere is so different. I managed to trick myself into thinking that I’d find a place that made me different. And to a degree, it’s true. Every place changes you a little. When I was doing therapy, I was a crisis counselor, so I always dealt with people going through the worst things possible. Every patient I spoke to changed me in some way. Every home I lived in, every restaurant I ate at... But...the one thing I’ve never done is go back to a place. I’ve only ever gone somewhere new. I thought I would see what it was like.”
“And?”
“No magic yet. But I do think I’ve finally realized that it doesn’t really matter where I live. I’m not going to find a perfect place that makes me perfect. So I figured I’d come back here and wrestle demons.”
“What kind of demons are you wrestling?” he asked.
It was said drily. Insincere. And yet she found she wanted to answer. She found she wanted to talk to him about the demon she’d met head-on the night he’d arrested her. The night she’d nearly been killed.
She didn’t blame him for that. Not really. She knew dimly that some people might. But she’d never put her father’s actions onto Eli Garrett’s shoulders. Because it had started long before then. Because she had a feeling that night was inevitable. Regardless of what date it fell on, regardless of what triggered it.
And it had been the reason she’d gotten into her car and driven away. And never once looked back. Until now.
“This way,” Eli said, pointing his light toward a cluster of pine trees off to the left. “We can cut through here. It’s faster.”
She followed him through the trees and into a clearing. There was a house up the hill, surrounded by trees, the porch light on as if someone inside the two-story wooden cabin was waiting for them. Wide steps led up to a wraparound deck with a glass door, and large windows dominated the front of the place, making the most of the location, set deep into the trees and far away from any roads.
“No wonder you’ve never left,” she said.
“Well,” he said, “not much point when you have a house ready and waiting for you, is there?”
“Sure there is,” she said. “If my parents had given me their house I still would have run. Happily for me, they never offered. I think the house ended up with the bank when they went to Coos Bay.” She felt like the statement was a little more revealing than she might have liked, but oh well.
“Well,” he said, obviously uncomfortable. And obviously unwilling to say more, even though the well held a wealth of meaning. He was really, at his heart, a decent man, even if he was reluctant in his decency.
“Well,” she said, matching his tone, “my parents’ house was essentially the crap cherry on top of a landfill, so for that reason alone I wouldn’t want it. Thank you for being too nice to say that.” She hopped over a tire rut that was filled with muddy water and continued following him down the road.
“I wasn’t thinking it.”
“Bull, and ten points if you can guess the word that follows.”
“I wasn’t, Sadie. I’ve been to a lot of houses like that. I’ve seen a lot of things. People have hard circumstances. And I don’t like to think of their living situations that way.”
“Why not?” she asked. “They do. Trust me. I mean...we do. We know.”
“I don’t judge people based on where they live.”
“Is that honestly how you feel? Or are you just throwing out some...good-guy line?” she asked, as they came to the end of the road, where it narrowed and led up to his house.
“Honestly?” he asked, turning to face her. “I care about this place. I care about Copper Ridge. And I care about Logan County. This is my home. And the people here are my responsibility. It’s not my job to look down my nose at anyone. It’s my job to protect the people here.” He continued walking, turning away from her again, his broad back filling her vision.
Her heart jammed up against her sternum. Anger mixed with a strange kind of longing that she didn’t want to apply to him. That she didn’t want to apply to anything or anyone, really.
“And you do a damn fine job, I’m sure,” she said, following him up the steps and waiting for him to unlock his door. The man locked his door. In Copper Ridge. Dear Lord.
“I know,” he said. “I haven’t exactly been hanging out for the past ten years so my first arrest could tell me that, but now that you have, it’s sort of nice and circular. I could use it for my campaign.”
“Hold up,” she said. “Campaign?”
“Yes. I’m running for sheriff.” He bit the words out as if sharing them with her was a monumental task.
“Oh, really?” she said, eyes widening. She couldn’t help but be...intrigued by that. Maybe intrigued was the right word. Because Eli Garrett seemed to be a few things to her, and none of them were overly diplomatic. And it seemed to her, not that she was an expert, that a person running for any sort of elected position needed to behave, at least some of the time, like he didn’t have a stick lodged in his rear.
But that was just her take on it.
“Yes,” he said. “Really.”
“Well, color me intrigued. What all does this entail?”
“Right now? I was the top finisher in the primary, and the final election is in November. My lead was pretty strong, but I still need to keep campaigning. Make more signs. I have a few months to prepare for a community Q & A,” he said, pushing the door open. “This is the house.” He swept his hand in a broad gesture across the living space. It was open, and neat, very different from his brother’s place, which had an air of sad neglect about it, every bit of dust and dirt a fingerprint of grief. Eli’s home had no fingerprints at all. Which, in and of itself, she found fascinating.
“Wow. Connor should hire you,” she said.
“Because I’m not at all busy,” he said. “I mean, obviously I’m not. I’m here getting water for you and letting you use my shower.”
“Because you care for the members of the community,” she said. “Which I am, at this moment, grateful for. Much more so than that time you cared for the community by handcuffing me and putting me in the back of your patrol car.”
“That seems to come up a lot.”
“It’s our cute meet, meet cute, whatever they call it. It’s part of our story,” she said, watching the tension between his brows intensify with each word. There was no doubt, she disturbed him. And he was growing even more disturbed having her in his house.
“Right. So, the bathroom is upstairs. Feel free to take as long as you need in the shower. I’ll get the water ready for you to take back.”
She cleared her throat, annoyed with herself for finding sincerity so hard. She was a basket case. Why anyone took her advice on anything was a mystery to her, particularly when she acted like this. “Thank you. Honestly. I know that I’ve sort of crashed into your life sans finesse here, and I appreciate you...well, I’m glad you haven’t found a reason to arrest me again and I’m very grateful for the chance to shower.”
He nodded slowly. “You’re welcome.”
“I’m going to go and...shower now.” And she was going to hope that she could do it without thinking too much about his proximity. Or without thinking about him at all. Yes, not thinking about Eli Garrett at all—in the shower or out—would be the ideal thing.
If only she could manage it.
