Overdrive

by Juanita Kees

  “I prefer my idea.” His brother lifted a six-pack of local brew. “Will you be back in time for a beer?”

  “Yeah. Make sure Dad goes easy, okay? His shakes were quite bad today.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Smart-ass. Save me one.” Chase slipped in behind the wheel of his pickup and gunned the motor. The V8 Chevy Silverado Redline roared to life, releasing a matching purr of satisfaction from Chase’s lips. He loved nothing more than the sound of a V8 tuned to perfection by his brother. He might be more of a numbers man, but the Calhoun clan all ran on high-performance fuel instead of blood.

  He took the drive easy, turning up the heat as the chill of the night snuck in through the cabin of his pickup. The lights of Bigfork twinkled below the night sky against the backdrop of the mountain range cloaked in shadows. He counted himself lucky to be born and raised in one of the best towns in the Flathead Lake district, a place he’d never contemplated leaving.

  Pulling up at the garage, a sense of unease tickled his senses. He looked up at the attic, dark and full of buried memories. The reflection of the moon filled the window, covered by the curtains his mother had made. He shivered. How was it that dark, forgotten space still had the power to chill his bones and make his heart ache? He got out the truck and waved to Molly across the street, having a cigarette break outside her grocery store.

  “Hey, Molly,” Chase called.

  “Back so soon, Chase?” She waved.

  “Yeah, forgot my laptop.”

  “Oh?” Molly frowned. “I coulda sworn I saw a light in the attic again. Thought one of you boys might still be in the garage.” She checked her watch. “Must have been the reflection of the moon. Better get back to it. Got shelves to restock before I head home.”

  “Have a good night, Molly. Take care now.”

  She blew him a kiss goodbye and Chase caught it against his heart in the ritual they’d kept from his childhood. Then he made his way around to the side door, unlocked it, and pushed it open. Darkness cloaked the inside of the building, the only light coming from a dim glow of streetlights through the windows. He stilled the beep on the panel with a code to turn off the alarms that protected the garage and showroom and made his way to his office. Chase flicked on the light. Not there. Damn it, where had he left it? The kitchen.

  He moved through to the back of the garage and turned on the light. His gaze fell on a can, all rinsed out and ready for recycling, on the counter. Well, at least Mason hadn’t left it still full of sauce to attract bugs, but he had to talk to his brother about his late-night food fests at the garage. The last time Mason had all but moved back into the attic, he’d been a miserable, tortured soul, teetering on the edge of self-destruction. Chase didn’t want to see that happen again.

  But the attic gave Mason comfort where it had the opposite effect on Chase. The reason he hadn’t installed an alarm in the old living areas at the back of the garage. So, Mason could come and go when he needed his space. There was nothing for thieves to steal back there except dusty old parts and confronting memories.

  He checked the washroom off to the side. Yep, damp towels on the rail and the scent of soap still clinging to the air. A sensory memory niggled at the back of his mind. It fled at the sight of a pair of lacy panties on the floor. Aha! That explained it all. Mason must have a new love interest. Good. It might stop him pining over Paige.

  The thought of Paige reminded Chase he’d forgotten to call Trinity. He scooped up the panties with the waistband between his thumb and forefinger and tossed them in the direction of the plastic laundry basket. Which wasn’t there. An uneasy feeling twisted his gut. It wasn’t as if Mason would have thought to take the laundry home to do.

  A mewling sound from the back recess of the garage reached his ears. So quiet he almost thought he’d imagined it. A stray cat? The noise came again, a little louder this time. He followed the sound to the attic stairs. A snuffled cry and a noise nothing like a cat’s drifted down them. Dread gripped his gut along with an unhealthy sense of deja vu that stole his breath. Was he so tired that he was hearing noises, ghosts of the past?

  He pushed away the memories of his mother’s face, contorted in pain as she’d tried to stand, one hand gripping the metal railing on the stairs up to the attic, the other cupping her abdomen. Chase. Her desperate cry whispered through his mind.

  With a frown, Chase shook off the memory, pressed down on the panic creeping through his blood, and took the metal steps one at a time, careful not to make a noise. There had to be a perfectly good explanation for all this. It had to be a cat seeking refuge from the cold.

  At the top, he passed a row of abandoned car parts and walked straight into a clothesline covered with baby clothes and other delicate items. A bra, some panties and a familiar hoodie. He pushed his way under the line into a glow of light that didn’t come from the moon in the window. A flashlight burned softly next to a makeshift bed, less than ten feet away.

  There, in his washing basket, wrapped in a blanket, was Zoe, tiny fists waving in the air, snuffled mewling noises coming from pouty lips. And on the back seat of his dad’s old Dodge Charger, lay Charlie fast asleep under a picnic blanket, a sketch pad open on the floor beside her.

  Chase leaned his shoulder against the edge of a steel shelving unit. How had she ended up in their attic? And why had she lied? The thoughts that had plagued him earlier returned. The girl had something to hide and he’d find out what it was.

  Long eyelashes brushed her cheeks in sleep. Lips made for kissing parted on the soft rhythm of her breathing. She most definitely didn’t look like a criminal on the run. Just a tired young mother. An extraordinarily beautiful Sleeping Beauty like the one in the fairy tales his mom used to read to Grace. If he were that prince, he’d happily kiss her awake.

  The baby let out a wail that killed any remotely romantic ideas forming in his mind. Green eyes fluttered open, muddled with sleep. She pushed herself up on her elbow and paused as if orientating herself to her surroundings before reaching for the bundle in the basket.

  “Hey, baby. Is it feeding time already? Hush now.” She cuddled the baby to her, making cooing noises that made Chase wish he was the one she held in her arms.

  He waited in the shadows until the baby had settled and the hum of infant noises and soothing lullabies filled the air. It reminded him of a long time ago when his mom’s soft singing had flowed through the attic space at night. There was something exceptionally beautiful about the bond between mother and baby, a sight he was more than happy to enjoy now that he knew he wasn’t imagining things.

  He let his words drift quietly into the almost-silence. “So that’s what happened to my chicken salad sandwich.”

  *

  Terror ripped through Charlie, stealing her breath. Hunching over Zoe, hugging her tighter, she swept up a screwdriver into her fist and scrambled to her knees. At her breast, the baby protested the movement with a whimper.

  “Hey, it’s okay, Charlie. Relax, it’s Chase. I’m not going to hurt you, honey.” He stepped into the pool of light. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “Chase.” She breathed, recognition filtering through her shock. Panic slowly faded from the thump against her rib cage as she soothed Zoe’s full-blown cries. “It’s okay,” she whispered, willing her heart rate and her baby to settle.

  “We meet again.” He folded his arms across his chest. Booted feet planted apart, he stood in front of her makeshift bed, a solid six-foot-something wall of muscle.

  Remnants of fear kept her tongue tied around the explanation milling in her mind. She searched his face in the soft light as he moved closer. The shadow of stubble on his jaw, his hair all mussed and the dimples in his cheeks drawn by a grim face rather than a smile.

  “I can explain.”

  “You ate my beans.” His corded arms unfolded, and he planted his big hands on his hips. “And my chicken salad sandwich.”

  “I replaced the beans with the can I bough
t today. And I’ll make you another sandwich.” Charlie cuddled Zoe closer as her cries settled.

  “It’s a deal.” He nodded and looked around. “I like what you’ve done to the place.” His gaze lasered in on hers, piercing blue. “But you can’t stay here.”

  “Please let me stay. Just for tonight. I’ll pay you the same rate as I would have paid at the inn. I wasn’t expecting to be out of a job with no income, so I need to be careful with spending on my cash and cards. I’d planned to explain it all to you tomorrow.” Her chest tightened as the words tumbled from her tongue.

  Chase crouched in front her, the denim pulling tight over his thighs. She allowed herself to be distracted by the pale, worn material that clung lovingly to every curve and swell. The knot in her throat tightened.

  He reached out to stroke Zoe’s downy head, his fingers gentle as they brushed against the skin of Charlie’s shoulder. “An attic full of old parts and dust and bugs isn’t the place for a baby, Charlie.”

  “I have nowhere else to go.” Desperation lent a plea to her tone. “This was meant to be a new start for us. But things didn’t quite go as planned.”

  Darn it, she hadn’t meant to let so much slip, but Chase wasn’t the kind of guy she could lie to. The tears she’d tried to hold back since losing the job in Kalispell, threatened to spill over. She brushed them away. For Zoe’s sake, she had to stay strong.

  He sighed and sat down on the old back seat next to her, stretching out his long legs. His warmth filled the space, the lingering spice of his cologne clinging to his skin. All male. And as sexy as hell. Exactly what she’d vowed to avoid since the night she’d been stupid enough to indulge in a rebellious one-night stand and bring shame to the Jacksons of Daytona Beach.

  “Okay…” The deep baritone of his voice vibrated through her, skittered along her nerve ends and found the perfect place to lodge the pleasure the sound generated. He dragged a hand through his hair. “What about this offer, then … I own a cabin on my brother’s guest ranch. You can use my guest room until you sort things out.”

  “You’d do that for a stranger?”

  He wrinkled a beautifully straight, strong nose with just a small bump in it. “Renting rooms to strangers is my brother’s bread and butter. I think we can make a plan for you and Zoe. It’ll be no different from renting a room at the inn.”

  “Only if you’ll let me pay my way.”

  He held out a hand to shake hers. “Deal.”

  Charlie shook, his fingers strong and firm around hers, her palm encompassed by his. “If you’re sure?”

  He smiled, the dimples in his cheeks deepening. “If I leave you here and Molly finds out I haven’t offered you some Calhoun hospitality, I’ll be in big trouble. It’s a lot better than having old muffler pipes and engine parts as company. I’d be happier knowing you’re both safe and warm.”

  Chase pushed up off the seat in one fluid motion that flexed muscle and stretched denim in a way that made her wish she hadn’t made so many bad choices in life. In another time and place, he would have made it onto her wish list, but that was a life-change ago. Her must-haves weren’t the only priority anymore.

  “Thank you.” She breathed, heat rising on her neck, relief flooding her.

  “How about I go over to Molly’s and stock up on things you might need while you pack?”

  Zoe squirmed and made noises, her little face a frown of concentration. “A pack of diapers might be a good idea. We go through a few of those.”

  He laughed, a sound that warmed her a little more. “When my sister, Trinity, was a baby, Dad didn’t have time to wash cloth diapers and used disposables. We had them stacked high in all different sizes in the storeroom at the ranch. Being a single parent and raising six kids close together in age kept him busy.”

  She’d heard speculation about the reasons for Marty Calhoun’s departure from racing, but she’d never paid much attention to gossip. “That would have been hard.”

  He shook his head. “Not easy, but he did it.” He turned away, but not before she caught the haunted look in his eyes. Chase Calhoun had challenges of his own. “I’ll go and do some shopping before Molly closes the store. Where did you park your rental car? If you give me the key, I’ll swap the baby seat over into mine. It will be easier to travel together than to give you directions out to the ranch in the dark.”

  Charlie hesitated. Leaving her car behind would be a gamble. She’d have no transport, no escape, if this new arrangement didn’t work out. The Calhouns had a trustworthy reputation. Almost a celebrity status. They wouldn’t do anything to harm her or Zoe. She’d be safe. And if the rental car stayed hidden, Ed wouldn’t see it if he drove into town on her tail.

  She reached for the carryall and retrieved the key. Holding it out to him, she said, “It’s behind the old shed under the tree.” He took the key, his fingers brushing hers and sending little tingles through her nerve endings, then he turned to walk away. “And Chase?”

  He stopped at the makeshift clothesline. “Yeah?”

  “Thanks. I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

  His bright blue eyes roamed over her, assessing her and the bundle in her arms. Her heart did a little flutter against her ribs as she imagined them looking at her in a whole different way. Thoughts she shouldn’t be having when that was exactly what had gotten her into this trouble in the first place.

  “No running away while I’m gone, Charlie, okay?”

  She shook her head. The time for running was over. She needed stability. For herself. For her baby. And maybe Bigfork would be the place she found it.

  Chapter Three

  Chase pulled the collar of his jacket up around his ears. He walked across the street and pushed in through the glass door.

  “Hi, Molly,” he called as he passed by the counter, sweeping up a basket as he went.

  He made his way down the aisles, stopping, checking and dropping baby stuff into his basket. The last thing he’d expected to be buying from Molly’s Old Time Five and Dime on a Friday night was diapers. And the instant baby milk, which had been a tough choice given the range. And bottles, a sterilizing kit and a pacifier, just in case, because … well, hell, what did he know about breastfeeding when Trinity had been bottle-fed? He added a selection of herbal tea and chocolate to the basket.

  Molly’s eyebrows rose almost right into her hairline as Chase unpacked his purchases onto the counter. A slow smile spread on her lips as she eyed him over her glasses. “Someone in the Calhoun clan bring home a baby?”

  “Something like that. Do I need this, Molly?” He tapped the plastic lid on the can.

  “Maybe not if she’s breastfeeding, but I know a lot of moms who top up with formula at night. Some say it helps the baby sleep better. Fuller tummy, you know. If the baby sleeps better, her mom will sleep better too.”

  Mrs. Thomas emerged from the shelves behind him, her gasp of surprise at his basket of supplies carefully concealed behind her hand. Darn it, word would spread through the streets of Bigfork by morning, and by lunchtime he’d be pegged as the father of a mystery baby.

  “I won’t tell a soul that the big bad mamma bear of the Calhoun boys is really a soft touch.” Molly winked. “And neither will you, Joan.” She warned Mrs. Thomas.

  Chase frowned. Molly was the second one tonight to refer to him as mothering. He sighed and opened his wallet. Being ten and in charge of your siblings was not something he’d thought he’d be doing the day he’d found his mom in a crumpled mess at the bottom of the attic stairs.

  He pushed away the vision in his mind. It hurt to think about her. Mitch had been barely two years old at the time. Then their dad had come back a few days later with the baby and the bad news. Mom was never coming home.

  He shook off the gloom and handed over his credit card. “Will I need anything else, Molly?”

  She eyed his purchases as she processed the transaction. “I think you’ve got it covered, son. I’m guessing this is for our young lady from this m
orning? She wasn’t staying at any of the inns around here, was she? Where did you find her?”

  Chase grimaced. “In the attic.”

  “The attic? Oh dear, Chase, that would have given you a bit of a shock. I’ll admit that when I saw those lights going on and off, I wondered if your mom was trying to send me a message from the spirit world. Gave this old heart of mine a kick start, mind you. You’ll help the girl out?”

  He nodded. “How can I not, Molly? You’d never forgive me if I didn’t.”

  He didn’t want to explore his own reasons for it either. Certainly not the ones that raised the memories of another baby born and a life lost in that same place all those years ago. Yet he couldn’t deny the draw of her green eyes, the white-blonde hair secured in a ponytail he wanted to loosen, and the glimpse of a body he wouldn’t mind holding against him. And that was a feeling he hadn’t had in a very long time. But he had to tread carefully since he had no desire to walk blindly into another man’s territory. And where was the baby’s father? What had brought Charlie to be alone with a baby in a strange town?

  “You’re a good boy, Chase Calhoun.” Molly reached over and pinched his cheek hard. “Go now. Get that girl and the baby somewhere nice and warm.”

  Chase scooped up the grocery bags. “See you in the morning, Molly. Take care going home now. The roads are getting slippery at night. You too, Mrs. Thomas.”

  “You know I’m always careful.” Molly waved him out the door.

  Chase tossed the grocery bags into the back of the pickup, pleased now he’d chosen the dual cab version or he would’ve had to find another ride tonight. He went to locate Charlie, half-expecting her to have had second thoughts and disappeared. He was a stranger offering her refuge miles out of town. And the way his thoughts ran when he saw her, she should be wary, because he couldn’t honestly put her in the guest basket when his body and mind had her labeled as something more.

  He found her in the kitchen, cleaning the table with disinfectant, Zoe gurgling away happily in her makeshift bed in the washing basket. For the first time Chase got to see the baby’s face in full, having only had profile views before. Yeah, no doubts at all as to whom her mom was. Charlie might be guilty of something, but baby-napping could be crossed off the list.