by Nora Roberts
He’d probably light a fire, to take the chill off the house, even though he’d be leaving it.
If she needed him at any time of the day, she could call. He’d find a way to help.
He came to the bed, leaned down, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She started to speak, but felt words would spoil the moment, would distract from what was happening inside her. She stayed silent as he slipped out of the room.
The night before he’d come out on the porch to greet her. He’d eaten the leftovers, and gone to the market. He’d walked with her on her evening check of the habitat.
He waited for her, she admitted. But what was she waiting for?
Promises, guarantees, certainties? He’d broken her heart and left her unspeakably lonely. It didn’t matter that he’d been motivated by good intentions, the hurt still happened. Still existed. She feared it nearly as much as she feared Ethan.
In fact, Coop was the only man who’d ever had the power to break her heart or make her afraid. Did she want to live without that risk? Because she would never get there, not with Coop. Just as she would never, never feel so utterly safe, happy, and excited about anyone else.
As dawn streamed in the windows she heard him leave. The door closing behind him, and moments later, the sound of his truck.
She rose, crossed to her dresser to open the bottom drawer. She dug under layers of sweats to draw out the cougar he’d carved for her when they’d been children.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she ran her fingers over the lines as she had countless times over the years. She’d put it away, true. But she took it with her when she traveled, kept it in that drawer at home. Her good-luck piece. And a tangible piece of him she’d never been able to toss away.
Through that roughly carved symbol, Coop had gone with her to Peru, to Alaska, to Africa and Florida and India. He’d been her companion on every field study.
Twenty years, she thought, nearly twenty years since he’d taken a block of wood and carved the image of what he knew—even then—she valued.
How could she live without that? Why would she choose to?
Standing, she set the cougar on her dresser, then opened another drawer.
She felt a tug for Jean-Paul. She hoped he was well, and he was happy. She wished him the love he deserved. Then she emptied the drawer.
She carried the lingerie downstairs. A fire crackled in the hearth, and the scent of coffee tantalized the air. In the kitchen she put the nightwear in a bag, and with a smile ghosting around her mouth put it in the laundry room.
It would wait until he got home, she thought, because this was home now. For both of them. Home was where you loved, if you were lucky. Where someone would light the fire and be there when you came back.
It was where you kept the precious. A baseball bat, a carved cougar.
She poured a mug of coffee and, carrying it with her, went upstairs to dress for the day. It was a good day, she thought, when you opened yourself to both the joys and the risks of love.
COOP WORKED UP the first sweat of the morning mucking out the stalls. They had three group rentals booked for the day, two of them guided, so he’d need to load up a couple more horses and get in to set up. He needed to schedule a visit from the vet and the farrier, both at the stables and at the farm. He had to get in, check the website for future bookings.
And he wanted an hour, a good hour without interruptions to study the files, his notes, the map and try to find a new angle for tracking down Ethan Howe.
It was there, he knew it was there. But somehow he was missing it. A handful of men couldn’t cover the hundreds of acres of hills, forests, caves, and flats. The dogs couldn’t hold the scent when there was essentially nothing to hold.
A lure was needed. Something to lure Ethan out, just far enough to trap him. But since the only bait that seemed potent enough to accomplish that was Lil, he had to find another way.
Another angle.
He tossed another load of soiled hay into the wheelbarrow, then leaned on the pitchfork as his grandfather came in. Barely a limp now, Coop noted, though it generally increased if Sam stayed on his feet for several hours.
The angle there, Coop knew, was to get the man to take periodic breaks without making them seem like breaks.
“Just the man I wanted to see.” Coop shifted to stand between Sam and the barrow before his grandfather got it in his head to haul the manure out to the pile. “Do me a favor, will you? We need vet and farrier appointments here and at the stables. If you could set those up it would save me some time today.”
“Sure. I told you I’d see to the mucking out.”
“Right. I guess I forgot. Well, it’s nearly done.”
“Boy, you don’t forget a damn thing. Now hand over that pitchfork.”
“Yes, sir.”
“In case you’re working your brains trying to find other ways to keep me out of trouble and in the rocking chair, I’ll ease your mind.” With the grace of long experience, Sam went to work on the last stall. “Joe and Farley are going to give me some time today helping check fences. I’m going to hire the young Hossenger boy to do some chores around here, before and after school. If he works out, I’ll keep him on through the summer. He’s got it in his head he wants to work with horses. We’ll give him a try.”
“Okay.”
“He’s got a strong back and he’s not an idiot. I was talking to Bob Brown yesterday. He tells me his granddaughter’s looking for a job. Girl can ride, and she’s thinking about asking you if you need another guide.”
“I could use one, especially with the season coming up. Does she know the trails?”
“Bob says she does, and she’s got a head on her shoulders. You can talk to her yourself, and decide.”
“I’ll do that.”
Sam puffed out his cheeks. “Jessie Climp teaches over at the elementary, and she’s looking for summer work. You might want to talk to her. She’s been around horses all her life, and she’s good with kids. Might be she’d do fine for those pony rides we’re adding in.”
Coop smiled. So they’d discussed the changes and additions he wanted to make. “I’ll talk to her.”
“New computers and what-all, I’m leaving to you and Lucy. I don’t want any more to do with them than I have to.”
“We’ll look into that, first chance.”
“As for adding on, could be I’ll talk to Quint about drawing something up for that. I had a conversation with Mary Blunt about this retail business, and she tells me Lil’s place does a good turn on things like postcards and such.”
“You’ve been busy.”
“I saw the doctor yesterday. He says I’m fit and I’m sound. The leg’s healed up.” To prove it, Sam gave his thigh a smack. “At my age I’m going to have to pamper it some, but I can walk and stand and I can sit a horse and ride a plow. So I’ll be taking on some of the guideds again. You’re not here to work yourself to the bone—that’s not what your grandmother and me want.”
“I’m a long way from the bone.”
As Coop had, Sam leaned on the pitchfork. “I’ve been dug in about hiring on. Don’t like change. But things change whether you like it or not, and the fact is we’ve got a good business going with the rentals. Better than we ever expected. We need to hire on more help there. We need more help around the farm so you can do what you came out here to do, and if that’s adding some things, changing them some, that’s the way it is.”
“More help’s not going to hurt my feelings, but I’m doing what I came out here to do, whether we add on or change a thing.”
“You came out to help your crippled grandfather.” Sam did a bounce and kick that had Coop laughing. “Do I look crippled?”
“No, but you don’t look like Fred Astaire either.”
Sam wagged the pitchfork. “You came back to start digging in the roots you planted when you were just a boy. To run the horse business and help with the farm.”
“Like I said, I’m doing what I cam
e out to do.”
“Not all.” This time Sam pointed a finger. “Are you married to that girl? Did you just forget to invite me to the wedding?”
“I didn’t come out here to marry Lil. I thought she was going to marry someone else.”
“Had that been the case, you’d’ve been working out ways to win her away from that French guy ten minutes after setting eyes on her again.”
“Maybe.”
Pleased, Sam nodded. “You would’ve done it, too. Anyway, we’re hiring on, and we’re adding on. Your grandma and me decided on it.”
“Okay. I’ll make it work for you, Grandpa.”
“You make it work for you, I expect it’ll work for me. And you’ll have time to do everything you came out here to do. I’ll finish up here. You go in and sweet-talk your grandmother out of some breakfast before you go on. She’s got the start of her spring cleaning in mind today, so God help me. I got the names and phone numbers of those I told you about in the kitchen.”
“I’ll haul this load out first.”
“Do you think I haven’t got the muscle for that?”
“Grandpa, I figure you can haul your share of shit and everyone else’s, but it’s on my way.”
Coop wheeled out the barrow while Sam guffawed. He headed to the manure pile with a grin.
IN THE CHANCE kitchen, breakfast was on. Farley plowed into flapjacks, dazzled by his luck. Along with them were sausage and hash browns. A kingly breakfast, in his mind, for the middle of the week.
“Our stomachs are getting full because Jenna emptied my wallet yesterday.”
Jenna bumped Joe’s shoulder with her elbow, then topped off his coffee. It did ease the guilt of the sting she put on their credit card. “That’s our wallet, mister.”
“It’s still empty.”
She laughed and sat to look over her grocery list, the list for the feed store, and other errands. “It’s market day, so I’m going to be putting another dent in that tin can with the spare cash you’ve got buried outside.”
“I used to think you really had one of those,” Farley said between bites.
“What makes you think I don’t? Take my advice, Farley, get yourself a tin can and bury it deep. A married man needs some backup.”
Jenna’s eyes twinkled with humor even as she narrowed them. “I know where everything’s buried around here. And just where to bury you where no one will ever find the body if you’re not careful.”
“A woman who can threaten your life before you’ve finished breakfast is the only kind of woman worth having,” Joe told Farley.
“I’ve got one of those. I’m a lucky man.”
“The two of you lucky men better finish up and get out of here if you expect to get your work done, then help Sam.”
“We’ll be the best part of the day. We’ll have the radio if you need anything.”
“I’ve got my own full day. Lucy’s packing you two lunch so you won’t starve, or have need to come back in before you’re done. I’ll be heading into town later on, then swinging by Lucy’s. She’s started her spring cleaning, so I’m picking up what she needs at the market.”
“Can you go by the hardware? I need a couple things.”
“Put it on the list.”
Joe wrote down what he needed while he finished his coffee. “We can call the dogs in if you want them around today.”
“I’ll be leaving in a couple hours anyway. Let them have a good run with you. Are you home for supper, Farley?”
“Well, Tansy’s mom’s going back today, so I was thinking . . .”
“I know what you’re thinking. I’ll see you in the morning, then.” She added to her list while Farley cleared the table.
“I’ll load up the tools,” he said. “Thanks for breakfast, Jenna.”
When they were alone, Joe winked at his wife. “We’ll have the house to ourselves tonight, so I was thinking . . .”
She laughed. “I know what you’re thinking, too.” She leaned over for the kiss. “Get going so you can get back. And don’t work so hard you’ve got nothing left for what you’re thinking.”
“I’ve always got something left for that.”
She smiled as she finished her lists in the quiet kitchen, because that was the pure truth.
LIL HELPED CLEAN and hose down the enclosures before going into the offices. It was dental hygiene day at the refuge, so Matt and several of the interns would be busy drugging animals and cleaning teeth. And a shipment of chicken was due to arrive that morning. More interns busy unloading and storing. The winch on the door of the lion’s habitat had made unfortunate noises that morning as she’d lowered it to keep Sheba out of the enclosure while they’d cleaned and disinfected it. Maintenance on the list, she thought, and some prayers that it didn’t need replacement.
Maybe one day she’d be able to afford hydraulics, but that was not today.
“Don’t you look bright and happy this morning,” Mary commented.
“Do I?”
“Yes, you do.” Mary tipped down her cheaters. “Good news?”
“No news, so I suppose that’s good. It’s going to hit seventy today, a veritable heat wave. Forecasters claim it’ll hang around through tomorrow before we drop about twenty degrees. We do need more feed for the petting zoo.”
“I ordered it yesterday.”
“I’ve got news.” Lucius waved the whip of red licorice in his hand. “I just checked the website. We’re up to five thousand dollars in donations attached to Delilah. People are all excited about her, and her and Boris. It’s the love story that’s done it, I think.”
“If it is, we’re going to generate a romance for every animal in here.”
“They’ve gotten more hits than any of the others on the webcam this week, and more comments. I was thinking we could update the bios on all the animals, juice them up a little. And replace some of the photos, maybe do a couple of short videos.”
“That’s good. And you know what, Lucius, maybe you could get some videos of Matt and his interns working on the dental. It’s not sexy, but it shows what kind of care we give them, how much work’s involved. It’s educational, plus it may stir up donations from people who don’t realize what goes into tending them.”
“Sure, but it would work better if you wrote up a little piece on it. Something fun that talks about how people hate to go to the dentist and stuff like that.”
“I’ll play with something.”
She went into her office to work on a piece she hoped to pitch for pay on Delilah’s rescue. She’d beef it up with the romance angle with Boris, she decided. Good nutrition, proper care, and housing all mattered, she mused, but the connection to another living thing made life rich.
Nodding, she sat down to work on it, and thought romance was certainly in the air.
HEWAS READY, fully prepared. It had taken hours of work, but he felt everything he needed and wanted was now in place. Timing would be an unknown, a risk factor, but it would be worth it. In fact, it would be more exciting, more important with that unknown.
He was ready to kill, here and now, and take that risk as well. But as he watched, hidden, he lowered the crossbow. He might not have to kill to retrieve the bait. It would be better if he could make this clean. Take less of his time, his energy.
And make the real hunt-and-kill that much more satisfying.
Look at them, he thought, look at them going about their business, their useless business, without a clue he was close. No idea they were being watched.
He could kill them so easily. As easy—easier—than shooting a buck at his watering hole.
But wouldn’t she try harder, run faster, fight more viciously if he let them keep their worthless lives? Too much blood and she might lose heart.
He couldn’t have that. He’d waited too long, worked too hard.