A smile tipped one corner of his mouth even as anger brewed deep in his eyes. “I said I was sorry about answering your phone . . . but I’m not. We’re going to get this sick son of a bitch, Rach. He won’t bother you again.”
Rachel forced herself to smile. Garrett really believed he could make that happen. Maybe he could, but she wasn’t willing to take the chance. It was Garrett who would ultimately suffer if he was wrong.
She stepped across the threshold. “I have to change and go help Dory with dinner.”
“And I have to find Peg and explain why we didn’t tell the sheriff about our intruder. How angry do you think she’ll be with me?”
A slight smile escaped though she’d tried to be serious. “I wouldn’t worry. I think you’re her favorite.”
Garrett grinned, an endearing blush coloring his cheeks. “Good to know. I’ve never been anyone’s favorite before.”
The image of him as a little boy, growing up without a mother in what Rachel could only assume was a cold and unfriendly environment, wrenched at her heart. She struggled to keep all of the emotions invoked by her musing from parading across her face.
His gaze locked on hers and dropped to her lips for a heart-stopping moment. “Save me a seat at dinner, will you?” He turned to go before she could answer.
Rachel closed the door and leaned against it as his footsteps faded. How had she let him get to her? He was so disarmingly sexy, his lips like a drug she couldn’t do without. No excuse. She couldn’t afford to get close to anyone, least of all Garrett Harding.
She stripped off her dusty clothes and stood under the shower only long enough to rinse herself off. After dressing in a clean denim skirt and burgundy knit top, she headed down to the kitchen.
Dory was making her own recipe of French chicken tonight, and she recruited Rachel to chop potatoes, onions, and green peppers. When everything was ready, they carried the two main dishes, along with a veggie salad and fresh, homemade rolls to the dining room table.
The Taylors had made reservations to stay through the early bear hunt, which started next week, and they were chatting animatedly with Peg and Garrett. Same as last night, the only seat left open was between him and Jonathan, but she stepped around the table without hesitation. Funny how her opinions had changed literally overnight.
She searched Garrett’s face as he stood to pull out her chair. “Did you tell her?” Her voice was low and meant only for him.
He nodded indiscernibly and leaned closer to her ear. “You were right. I must be the favorite. They’re a little upset with you, though.” He chuckled as he pushed her chair in and took his seat.
Rachel wanted to laugh in the worst way—to shake off the pall of gloom and anxiousness that dogged her steps and really enjoy herself. It had been a while since she’d felt that free, probably not since Amanda died. It was Garrett who’d given her something to smile about—something to look forward to . . . if she were staying. As quickly as the realization came, an ache settled in her chest. He was forbidden. His smile, his touch, his kiss . . . as dangerous as they were enticing.
She knew what she had to do. Her plan was set. In a few hours it wouldn’t matter one way or another. If she could just get through this dinner. Choke down this food. Forget that Jonathan would be hurt by her sudden disappearance. That Peg would no doubt blame herself.
And Garrett? The man with the easy laugh, scruffy good looks, and hard, muscled body that begged to be touched—what would he do? She’d wanted him to stay and help Peg, but under the circumstances, he would be much safer if he hightailed it back to California and counted himself lucky that there hadn’t been anything here to hold him.
Rachel forced herself to join in the conversation that Alan and Linda were having with Garrett. Not that she knew much about cattle ranching and raising hay, but that’s what she loved about these dinners—learning about other people’s lives beyond Cougar Ridge. Now that she was moving on, maybe some of the information she’d gleaned over the years would come in handy.
“Say, I heard there was some excitement around here this morning. Someone trying to break in or something?” Alan grinned, obviously pleased with the gossip and its effect on the group around the table.
Peg choked on a bite of food and raised her napkin to her mouth, darting a glance toward Jonathan. She couldn’t have looked guiltier if she’d tried. Jonathan, usually calm, cool, and professional, pushed his plate back and offered a dark scowl that no doubt would have silenced anyone who didn’t already know what a soft-hearted tough guy he was.
Rachel swallowed a lump in her throat and concentrated on Alan Taylor’s curious expression instead of the dread that the memory evoked. “Nothing so dire, I assure you. Probably just one of the area residents cutting through the property on their way back to town.”
“But I heard he ran. Why would he run unless he was up to no good?” Alan’s brow furrowed in confusion and, possibly, regret that there wasn’t more excitement to the story.
Garrett leaned forward, resting on his elbows, his arm brushing against hers. “I understand there’s quite a lot of poaching in these mountains. Our visitor probably did have something to hide, but I doubt the lodge was the target of his misconduct.”
Rachel glanced at him and, as their eyes met, something subtle passed between them. Earlier, he’d told her he thought they’d make a good team. She hadn’t realized their first collaboration would involve lying to a guest.
“I hadn’t thought of that. You’re probably right.” Disappointment was obvious in Alan’s expression for the space of a heartbeat, and then his familiar teasing grin appeared. He turned to his wife. “That’ll teach us to listen to gossip at the diner, honey.”
“You heard someone talking about our trespasser in town today?” Garrett studied Alan, obviously paying closer attention.
She sensed Jonathan bristling on her other side, too. With good reason. No one but the three of them and Peg knew about the incident. She and Garrett had left town without filing a police report today. The only other person who could know was the intruder himself. An involuntary shiver cascaded through her.
Garrett leaned back and dropped his arm beneath the tabletop, finding her hand where it rested in her lap. He squeezed it lightly, and the warmth of his touch grounded her.
“Yes. We were having lunch. I stepped up to the counter for some mustard and overheard a couple of guys talking. They looked like locals, but I’d never seen them before. Had you, honey?” Alan draped his arm around Linda’s shoulders.
“I didn’t really get a good look at them, dear.” Linda smiled apologetically.
“No reason to worry. I’m sure Garrett and Rachel are correct in their assessment.” Peg patted Linda’s hand reassuringly. “I’ll impose upon Jonathan and Garrett to have a look around before they turn in tonight. We’ve never had any trouble here, but we do have an alarm system that we could set after everyone goes to bed if that would make you feel safer.”
“No, no. We’re perfectly comfortable with the way things have been. You’ve always taken good care of us.” Alan raised his glass in a toast to Peg.
Rachel’s heart pounded with a new worry. What if Jonathan and Garrett stood watch tonight? What if she couldn’t slip away unseen? She was still fretting over the possibility when the Taylors said goodnight and took their unfinished wine with them to their room.
Peg barely waited for their guests to hit the stairs. “Garrett, in light of this new information, are you sure it wouldn’t be wise to file a report with the sheriff?”
“The sheriff and I didn’t exactly get off on the right foot, Aunt Peg. I don’t think he’s going to care about anything I have to say. Maybe you or Jonathan could speak with him the next time you’re in town?”
A smile slowly worked across Peg’s features. “So much like your mother.”
Garrett’s visage brightened. “Really? How so?”
“Amanda was forever forming first impressions about new people from which
she’d decide whether they could be trusted or not.”
Garrett laughed softly. “Yeah? How’d that work for her?”
“She was never wrong,” Peg said.
“That’s a good thing, right?” Garrett cocked an eyebrow.
Peg nodded and pushed her chair back. “That’s a very good thing.”
Rachel shoved her chair out and stood as soon as Peg and Jonathan headed for the door. “I’m going to help Dory with the dishes and then go to the office.”
Garrett stood and placed a hand on her arm. “Are you sure I can’t help? I’m a mean typist.”
Dread lay heavy in her stomach. “Thanks, but no need. It’ll actually go faster on my own.”
“Have it your way. I’ll have a look around outside before I turn in tonight.”
“Maybe it’s not necessary. It could really have been one of the locals.” She searched his face hopefully.
Garrett stepped toward her and cupped her jaw, one thumb tracing her lower lip. “It wasn’t. We both know that. Anyway, it won’t hurt to have a look around. Would a goodnight kiss be out of the question?”
“Suddenly you’re asking?” Rachel raised her eyebrows, then tensed with anticipation as the warmth of his breath on the side of her face turned her legs to rubber.
A soft brush of his lips on hers and a quick kiss on her cheek was all she got, but it was enough to start her heart beating erratically. When he straightened in front of her again, he grinned as though he knew he was leaving her wanting more.
“My room, in the morning. Don’t forget, or I’ll come looking for you.” He winked and strode away.
Rachel’s heartbeat reverberated in her ears. He could look for her all he wanted. He wouldn’t find her. That thought initiated a pain in her chest and made it hard to breathe. She shook her head. It wasn’t important. She had dishes to do and a phone call to make. Then she would go to the office long enough to finish the letters she’d promised to send out welcoming the guests who’d made reservations for the season. It wouldn’t take as long as she’d led Garrett to believe.
Then she would pack . . . a few belongings. Not much would fit in one bag, but she didn’t have a lot. It had always been in the back of her mind that she’d have to run again so she hadn’t accumulated material things. The nearly eight thousand dollars she’d saved was more critical.
She went through the motions, doing her chores, saying goodnight to Dory and Jonathan before she climbed the stairs to her room. Pretending that it wasn’t the last time she’d ever see her friends was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but there was no other way to make it through this. Once alone, the first thing she did was call Sally. Her friend was the only person who knew the whole story about Jeremy, and there’d never been a doubt in Rachel’s mind that Sally would help her disappear, no questions asked, and keep her whereabouts quiet. She was that kind of friend. Rachel was going to miss her like crazy.
“Rachel? I’m so glad you called, but it’s kind of late. Is everything all right?” Sally’s bubbly greeting slowly faded to worry.
Rachel glanced at her bedside clock, wishing she could reassure Sally, but her friend knew her too well. Rachel would normally never call her after 10:00 p.m., knowing that Sally’s daughter, Jen, would likely be sleeping. “I need your help, Sally, and you can’t tell anyone.”
Heavy silence stretched into seconds. Finally Sally sighed. “What do you need, Rach?”
“It’s time for me to move on. I need you to pick me up by the lodge sign on the highway. If anyone comes looking for me after I’m gone you have to tell them you haven’t seen me in weeks. Can I stay at your house tonight?”
“Of course, but where are you going?”
“I can’t tell you, hon. You’ll be safer if you don’t know.” The silence again, but Rachel pushed on. “Can you be here by midnight?”
“Sure. I’ll arrange for Jen to stay with one of her friends,” Sally said.
“That’s a good idea. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You don’t have to. You know that. I’ll be there at midnight.”
Rachel held on to the phone long after her friend was gone, wishing things could be different. As the silence settled around her, the immensity of what she was doing crashed over her, leaving her breathless and vacant except for a lump as hard as stone in her chest.
Leaving without saying good-bye to Peg would be devastating . . . for both of them. She tried to keep herself busy, not willing to give in to self-pity. There’d no doubt be plenty of time for such pursuits later.
Forcing her sadness to the back of her mind, she jerked her satchel off the top shelf of the closet and opened it on the bed. Just one pair of shoes and a few clothes followed by her favorite picture of her with Peg, Amanda, and Jonathan two summers ago on the dock at the cabin nearly filled the bag. Lastly, she took a shoebox from the very back of one of her drawers. Inside was the .38 special she’d bought before leaving Texas along with a handful of extra shells. She’d been so embarrassed when Jonathan had found the gun helping her move in. Somehow he’d known that she hadn’t had a clue about guns, and he’d shamed her into learning how to use one. As she loaded the cylinder, pocketed the remaining ammunition, and laid the weapon on the top of her clothes, she was immensely glad he had.
Finally, she retrieved a sheet of stationery from her desk drawer and sat stiffly, penning the hardest words she’d ever had to write. She meant it to be for all of them, but upon rereading, it sounded as though she was talking to Garrett. Damn him for getting inside her head and messing with her preconceived ideas. She’d have been better off if she’d continued to hate him. Now, she would miss him and always wonder what might have been.
But nothing could ever have come from her association with Garrett. As long as Jeremy was alive, the danger was very real that Garrett would end up dead if she let herself get too close. And it would be her fault because . . . hadn’t she been warned?
She glanced at her watch again. A deep breath came hard as the minutes ticked by. If she hesitated now, she’d never leave. She slipped into a dark-colored jacket, slung her bag over her shoulder, tiptoed down the stairs, and slipped out of the lodge.
A full moon illuminated her path as she followed the gravel road across the bridge, through the meadow, and down the drive. She’d never been afraid walking in these woods, but tonight the shadows swayed with an eerie presence, and the hairs prickled along the back of her neck as she glanced over her shoulder at every sound. Her hand rested on the .38 special at the top of her bag, and she kept walking.
Ten minutes later as she neared the highway, she heard a car’s engine. It was nearly midnight, and the narrow mountain roads didn’t see much traffic after dark, but she stepped into the shadow of the trees anyway. It would be best if no one saw her leave. She couldn’t take a chance that someone would mention to Peg or Jonathan that they’d seen her—not until she was far away.
As soon as she recognized the old gray Ford Explorer, Rachel stepped back onto the roadway, into the light from the oncoming vehicle.
The Explorer came to a stop and the front passenger door opened. Rachel strode forward, deposited her bag on the floorboard, and slid into the front seat opposite a petite brunette who studied her rearview mirror before glancing over.
Rachel leaned toward her, giving her the briefest of hugs. “Thanks for coming, Sally.”
The woman behind the wheel looked Rachel over, misgivings apparent in her expression. “You call . . . I come, but are you sure about this, sweetie?”
Rachel shook her head. “I don’t have a choice, Sal. I think Jeremy may know where I am. If I don’t leave, a man I only met yesterday will end up dead, and I’m not going to let it happen this time.”
Chapter Nine
FRUSTRATION PROPELLED GARRETT down the stairs, the lavender-colored envelope and sheet of paper half-crumpled in his fist. Damn stubborn woman! Rachel owed him an explanation—one he needed if he was going to figure out why that Jeremy characte
r scared the shit out of her. She’d agreed to come to his room this morning. When she didn’t show by 8:00 a.m., he’d gone looking for her and found the note in her room. Her good-bye note! Why couldn’t she see that she was safer here than out there . . . alone?
An irritated grumble escaped in spite of his efforts to rein in his simmering temper.
As Garrett’s feet hit the landing halfway between the lobby desk and the front door, he glanced around. “Jonathan?” Where was everybody? Faint voices drifted in from the dining area, and he scrunched the lavender paper tighter as he started that way.
Without warning, the lodge door swung open. A tall, broad-shouldered hulk of a man with dark brown hair, cut military short, stepped across the threshold. His ready smile crinkled his boy-next-door face and revealed matching dimples that he’d been teased about unmercifully all of his life. Garrett skidded to a stop.
“Luke!” He never could set eyes on his younger brother’s happy-go-lucky mug without giving up a grin of his own, no matter how black his mood.
“Hey, bro. Don’t look so surprised. You told me to haul ass.” Luke cocked his head. “Here I am.”
Garrett closed the distance between them and grasped Luke’s outstretched hand, then pulled him in for a hug. Damn, it was good to see him.
Releasing him, Garrett stepped back. “You’re just in time. I’m going to need your help.” He ignored the quizzical expression he received in return and resumed his march toward the dining area as Luke fell in beside him.
They no doubt seemed a formidable pair, filling the doorway, because Jonathan and Aunt Peg both rose and stared at them. The Taylors weren’t in attendance yet, which Garrett was thankful for. The fewer people present the better when he demanded Aunt Peg tell him what the hell was going on. Before he could say anything, though, she emitted a small gasp, and her hand flew to her throat.
“Luke?” She glanced at Garrett. “This is Luke, isn’t it?” Her gaze flitted back to his brother as her shoulders slumped, and she grabbed for the edge of the table, her eyes rolling back in her head. Garrett leaped forward, Luke close behind him, but it was Jonathan who caught her before she hit the floor.
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