Читать книгу Reining In Trouble - Tyler Anne Snell - Страница 10

Detective Caleb Nash switched his jeans for jogging shorts and hoped to high heaven no one he knew saw him. It was a particularly pleasant day in Overlook. The humidity was down and the heat wasn’t too bad. He’d have to clean the pollen off of his truck before he went to the department unless he wanted his partner, Jazz, to give him grief again. She always reminded him that they represented the sheriff’s department, vehicles included. It was easy for her to say. She drove an obnoxious gray four-door that barely showed any pollen. Not to mention her husband detailed cars for a living.

Caleb drove an old dark blue pickup that showed every speck of yellow, and as for a spouse with a helpful job? His last girlfriend had split because the only real marriage he was interested in was to his job. Her words, not his. Though he couldn’t deny they held some truth. She’d also never been a fan of small-town Tennessee. The last thing she’d be worried about was him driving around town with a pollen-coated junker.

Though that insignificant mark of shame would be nothing compared to what would be said if any of Overlook’s residents saw one of the Nash triplets jogging in the short shorts he was currently sporting. Good, bad, or embarrassing, the town already had enough to talk about when it came to the family. Adding his bare legs to the mix was something he wanted to avoid. Never mind keeping the sheriff away from the image. That grief would last for months longer.

But what was a man supposed to do?

The reappearance of his short shorts from track in school had been his mama’s fault. Her latest drop-in had resulted in a surge of spring cleaning he hadn’t asked for but couldn’t stop. The casualty in the latest cleaning war had been the accidental destruction of his normal workout wear. Now he was popping in his earbuds at the mouth of Connor’s Trail with more skin than he was comfortable showing, hoping that none of the people living or working on the Nash Family Ranch would find themselves up that way.

On a scale of one to five, one being a kid-friendly walk meant to enjoy the scenery and five being a laborious attempt at training for trails that went up the Rockies, Connor’s Trail was a three. It began where the woods that were scattered across the back half of the hundred acres of ranchland curved, forming a crescent-moon shape that rose and dipped the farther you went inside the tree line. The uneven terrain warranted several new signs warning guests from the Wild Iris Retreat to be careful. Caleb knew for a fact that there were three in total surrounding the trail because he’d been the one to stake them in the ground. It was supposed to have been his brother, Declan, who did the deed, but work had pulled him away. There wasn’t much Caleb could do about that. He could argue until he was blue in the face with his eldest brother, but he didn’t dare try the same tactic with the sheriff. Even if they were one and the same.

Caleb leaned into the beat of his music as thoughts of his brother led to thoughts about work. Caleb had been a detective with the Wildman County Sheriff’s Department for five years. In that time he’d learned the importance of routine, especially when it came to exercising.

“There’s never enough time to do every single thing you want to,” his father, Michael, used to say. “But there’s always time to do at least one thing. You just have to make that one thing count.”

While his siblings, Madeline and Desmond, thought that was a bunch of bologna, Caleb had taken his late father’s words to heart. That mantra had served the patriarch well throughout his life.

Until it hadn’t.

But that hadn’t been his fault.

Caleb’s thoughts started to darken. The upbeat music did little to stave off that darkness. No matter how many years passed, Caleb knew there would always be moments where what had happened clawed its way to the forefront of his mind. Where it would sit. And wait.

A horrifying collection of memories from what felt like a different lifetime. The Nash triplets stuck in a loop of helplessness, fear, and pain.

His feet dug into the dirt as he made physical distance from the home behind him. It had taken years for him, Madi, or Desmond to go back into the woods. To move between the trees without fear. Without worry.

Yet, sometimes, when Caleb thought about his father he couldn’t help but think about the man with the scar along his hand. Then, suddenly, Caleb was a child again. He’d hear Madi scream. Hear Desmond cry out in pain. He’d hear his own voice quaver in anger and fear.

Then Caleb would remember that, even though the memories felt so real sometimes, that’s all they were. Memories. Ones that had no place on the ranch at the end of Winding Road.

“But, how can it be over if the man with the scar is still out there?” asked Caleb’s inner voice. It was a question that always followed the memories, darkening them even further.

Today, though, Caleb refused to entertain them for long. He leaned into the beat of his music and focused on the comfort of routine.

The burn of exertion didn’t kick in until Caleb was passing the third mile marker. Scots pines lined either side of the dirty trail, their roots gnarled and reaching every few yards. Caleb had run the trail since he was fifteen and knew when to jump over or step around the ones that threatened to take a jogger by surprise. Just as he knew the exact spot to veer off the beaten path and forge over a less-known one to his favorite place across all of the ranch. The trees clustered closer but Caleb wove around them and kept going.

He heard the stream before he saw the water.

The trees thinned out and the ground dipped. Caleb jumped off a dirt ledge and slapped the trunk of a tree that had his initials carved into it. Rocks worn by erosion lined flowing water that was clear enough to see more rocks making up the bottom in the distance. It wasn’t a particularly wide waterway, neither was it that deep, but it was always cold.

Caleb was already thinking about stripping down, wading to the deepest point and dunking under for a quick refresher before he rounded the last line of trees. He stopped in his tracks. He wasn’t the only one who had been thinking the same thing.

A woman was already standing in the middle of the stream. Her back was turned to him but there was no denying the top layer of her clothes was somewhere else. Her raven-black hair was twisted up and showed smooth tanned skin, bare and reflected in the water just over her waist. Caleb couldn’t tell if she had any bottoms on but thought it ungentlemanly to find out. Though he wasn’t above admitting that, even from his limited view, there was an attractive curve to the woman. It brought out a feeling of curiosity that mingled with a more intimate excitement, but he wasn’t about to search out that feeling. Not when the woman had no idea she was being watched.

Caleb started to backtrack but whatever cool he’d had on the trail had been lost due to the new scenery. He missed his step and grunted as he tried to catch himself from falling. A splash of water was followed quickly by a gasp. Caleb’s palm bit into the smaller rocks on the shore. He managed to get his balance from them and went back to standing tall.

Now he was the one with an audience.

The woman had sunk down so far that the water was only an inch below her face. If that very same face hadn’t been scowling at him, as red as a cherry, Caleb might have taken an extra beat to appreciate the beauty of her sharp features, dimpled cheeks and dark brown eyes. As it was, he barely had the time to defend himself.

And even that he did poorly.

“Before you get any ideas,” he called, raising his hands in surrender. “I was on a run. I didn’t know anyone would be here.”

The woman, who he placed around late twenties, stayed red hot. Even her words had heat to them.

“Heck of a place for a run,” she yelled, motioning with one hand around them. The other he assumed was fastened across her chest.

Her implication that he was lying transferred some of that heat to Caleb. He crossed his own arms over his chest.

“I was running on the trail but decided to come and cool off,” he defended himself. “This is the deepest part of the stream.”

“How convenient,” she replied with bite. Her eyes skirted to a log that had been on its side for the better part of two years a few feet away from him. Caleb saw a pile of clothes and a pair of tennis shoes on top of it. “Could you please look away now? Or does that take away part of your fun?”

Caleb rolled his eyes, once again not liking the insinuation that he had been lying about his intentions, and made a show of turning all the way around.

“Just so you know, I’ve been coming to this stream for almost two decades. In all of that time I’ve never run into another soul.”

The woman’s feet slapped against the rocks behind him as she ran for her clothes. When she spoke he could tell she was struggling into them as fast as she could go.

“I was out checking the trail, if you must know. I was also specifically told that no one is supposed to be out here for another week,” she tried. “Especially not walking the woods.”

That got the detective side of Caleb prickling. The only people who’d been given rules on the ranch were employees and he sure didn’t remember meeting her. And, he was fairly certain he would have remembered.

“And who told you that?”

“The owners. I work here,” she said with pride. “So I suggest you get on your way before I report you to them.”

Caleb snorted.

“I wouldn’t be so smug about it,” she added. “One of them happens to be the sheriff. I don’t think he’d look too kindly on Peeping Toms and liars.”

“You’re right, Declan doesn’t like liars,” he said, feeling that heat again. He’d never been accused of such a crude thing. The only women he’d been interested in seeing naked he’d let them know, not stalked them off to the side. “He doesn’t care for trespassers, either. The ranch might be open but it’s private property.”

He chanced turning around. The woman was fully dressed in an outfit that gave credence to her claim of exercising. Her eyes drifted down to his shorts before they were back staring defiantly at him.

The resolve she’d been swinging cracked with uncertainty. Still, she held her shoulders back and her chin high. She actually huffed.

“I’m not trespassing. I’m coordinator for the Wild Iris Retreat. I just started last week.”

A snatch of conversation flitted through Caleb’s memory. His mom had been asking Madeline if she would be willing to show the new girl around town a few weeks back. That had been at the height of the Keaton case. He’d barely been around the Retreat since he’d finished the job. While they all had a stake in the Retreat, his mother was the one who ran the technical details, including the hiring. Though he still was hard-pressed to believe the woman scowling at him. All of the Nash family had agreed they wanted to hire locally. It was hard to pass on a genuine experience if the Retreat was being run by an outsider.

He ran a hand across the back of his neck. It was covered in sweat. The water sure would have felt good but he doubted the woman would stand for him stripping, too, and walking into it. He settled for leveling with her.

“I don’t remember the job being open for anyone who wasn’t local,” he said honestly.

A flicker of emotion he couldn’t decipher crossed her expression. Her scowl deepened.

“Dorothy said I gave one hell of an interview,” she shot back.

For a moment they just looked at each other. This time it was Caleb’s certainty that wavered. He believed the woman was telling the truth.

“Well I never like to doubt my mother’s decisions.”

The woman’s face pinballed between surprise, disbelief, embarrassment and stubbornness. Somehow she fell between all of them when she spoke.

“You’re one of the triplets.”

“In the flesh.”

* * *

NINA DRAKE FELT like a damned idiot.

She’d spent the last two weeks practicing what she’d say when she met the family whose ranch she was now employed by, desperate to make a great first impression. Not that she thought she’d make a bad one without the practice but because she desperately wanted the job. She needed it. So she’d gone over enough scenarios in her head about how she’d meet Dorothy Nash and her four children that by the time Nina had met the mother she’d been cool and confident.

Dorothy had smiled with her, laughed at Nina’s attempt at humor and even praised her work ethic.

Preparation had been key.

Meeting one of her sons while taking a topless dip and then immediately accusing him of being a creep?

That certainly wasn’t the key to anything other than a world of embarrassment.

“I’m Caleb Nash,” he continued while she continued to scramble for the right thing to say to make the last five minutes disappear. He was still grinning, which only made everything worse. “I’d prefer Caleb and not Tom, if you please.”

The burn of embarrassment that had crawled up her neck was now a steady flame across her cheeks. Still, Nina couldn’t just stand there any longer without saying a word. On reflex she cleared her throat and pasted on a smile that felt tight.

“I’m sorry,” she said, hoping she sounded at least marginally regretful. She still wasn’t convinced the man hadn’t been trying to enjoy the free view. Nina might have liked Dorothy but she had yet to meet her sons. One, she knew, was the sheriff. The other two were a part of the triplets. Past that she hadn’t heard anything about their jobs or personal lives. Dorothy had kept close to the topic of work. “I guess it wasn’t the best idea to go exploring. I thought for sure I would be alone.” She strode forward and stretched out her hand. “I’m Nina. Nina Drake.”

Caleb’s grip was strong and warm. Not that she expected the man in front of her to offer anything less. His arms and legs were toned and muscled, both threatening to break out of the tight shirt he wore and the shorts he barely had on. Even without the show of muscles he just seemed like a man who was sturdy. Well over six feet and broad shouldered, he made Nina feel more than petite next to him.

It didn’t help that she was already feeling small because of embarrassment. It also didn’t help that Caleb had a good-looking grin that matched an extremely handsome face. When Nina had applied for a job on the ranch she’d pictured rugged men in cowboy hats roaming around the property on horses. Not the clean-shaven, dark-haired man wearing short shorts in the middle of the woods in front of her.

Not those baby blues focused solely on her.

Half of the reason she’d taken the job was to curb excitement like this.

Not that this was anything more than an awkward situation.

Still, she couldn’t imagine being in the presence of the triplets if they had been identical. It would, she suspected, be intimidating to say the least.

“Well, nice to meet you, Nina,” he said after their hands had fallen. “I’m sorry I interrupted. I usually stop here to cool off.”

Nina was already backing away in the direction she’d originally come. She shook her head and waved off the concern.

“It was my fault,” she tried. “I was just trying to familiarize myself with the trails before guests started arriving. I should have stayed on the path.” Caleb looked like he was going to say something but she was already retreating into the tree line. “Enjoy your dip,” she called. Then she turned on her heel and hurried back to the dirt trail.

It wasn’t until she had passed the one-mile marker that she slowed enough to catch her breath. Instead of seeing the humor in the situation, Nina couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d almost cost herself a chance at a fresh start.

She balled her hands into fists, resolve to be the perfect employee flooding through her. Not only would she stick strictly to the rules, she decided, but she would also avoid the man who had caught her breaking them.

A branch snapped somewhere off to her side. Nina’s blush surged back up her neck, heating her skin, at the thought of Caleb following her. However, as she paused to look between the trees, she saw no one.

Nina finished the trail with a little more urgency in her step, all the while reasoning that the outline of the man she thought she’d seen was just her imagination.

Simply a ghost from her former life.