Rock and A Hard Place (Cascade Brides Series)

by Blythe, Bonnie

  Shane squared his shoulders, determined to make a better impression on Faith Conrad. He glanced down at his plaid shirt and khaki pants and hoped he looked okay. What kind of guy was she attracted to? The Brooks Brothers type? A biker in leather? If either was the case, he was a lost cause.

  “Shane!”

  He turned to see Merle coming through the church doors.

  The older man walked up and shook his hand. “Glad you could make it.”

  “Thanks for inviting me.”

  “Of course, of course. I hope you feel it's a good fit for you. We're probably a bit more conservative here than what you're used to in Detroit.”

  Shane smiled. “Let me guess, the pastor wears a three piece suit instead of jeans and a designer T-shirt.”

  Merle laughed. “Right. We should get settled as the service is about to start.”

  Shane did a quick scan of the lobby. “So we're not waiting for Faith?”

  “She'll get here eventually. She's never late for work but is rarely on time for church.”

  Wondering if there was something to the puzzling statement, Shane followed Merle into the sanctuary of Gateway Community Church and took a seat near the back. The sanctuary was composed of knotty pine and stacked rock, giving it a rustic flair. Those in attendance matched the rugged ambiance of the area with a plethora of denim and cowboy boots. Many gray heads were mixed with younger adults, representing the multiple generations of families Merle had mentioned when describing the town.

  Shane wondered what it would be like to have a sense of roots. His own family life had been transient, moving from one town to another, from one rental to the next. Even his job had taken him to three different states. Then again, he'd been the one applying for those transfers when they'd opened up. Maybe eastern Oregon would give him a reason to finally settle. Faith's image came to mind, making him smile ruefully. A few days in town and he was already jumping the gun. Ridiculous considering Miss Conrad hadn't seemed so keen on him.

  When the music started, Shane put thoughts of the pretty girl aside and focused on the words of the hymn, Just As I Am, played softly by an acoustic guitarist. As he sang the lyrics, he thought about where he'd been spiritually the first time he'd heard this song. Not in such a great place.

  It might have been a decade in real time, but it didn't feel like it was all that long ago when he'd been a juvenile delinquent, ignored by his father despite getting into trouble all the time. It had been a visit by Merle after his dad had left town that brought a change. Merle had dragged Shane to church, ignoring the sullen contempt, and had spelled out the consequences of his choices.

  Shane never knew he had an uncle until that point, and from the moment he'd met Merle, he'd wanted to impress him. Especially when Merle had offered to pay for college if he stayed out of trouble and kept up his grades. Shane had taken the opportunity—it wasn't hard to see the alternatives—and graduated high school with honors.

  In the end, he'd paid for his own degree in Forest Management and found his own employment the last several years, but it had been Merle's encouragement that got him on the right path. When the job opened up in John Day near his only remaining relative, Shane had jumped at it—not only to be close to family, but he was also hoping for a sense of permanence along with it.

  As the worship service came to an end, he offered a prayer of thankfulness for second-chances. Shane wondered if Faith would grant him another chance.

  After the service, he couldn't help but look for Merle's sole employee in the crowd. But he didn't see her. As his uncle introduced him to friends and associates, Shane tried not to crane his neck in hopes of catching a glimpse of Faith. Maybe she hadn't come. Maybe her ankle hurt too bad. He wondered if she'd received proper medical attention.

  “Ah, there she is.”

  Shane twisted around to see Faith walking down the hall toward them with only the slightest hint of a limp. She wore black slacks and a silk blouse that matched the green flecks of her eyes. Her hair, gleaming under the recessed lighting of the foyer, bounced and slid over her shoulders as she moved. But his pleasure at seeing her faded when he caught the gimlet look in her eye.

  “Where were you?” Merle asked amiably. “We missed you in the service.”

  “I was a couple of minutes late and they ended up needing help in the nursery.” She shifted her attention to Shane. “Mr. Zadopec.”

  “Just call me Shane,” he said, wondering what she was thinking about as she surveyed him. He knew it wasn't appreciative. No, he was being weighed and measured. Did she see him as a threat? A hindrance? Was there any hope she found him as attractive as he found her?

  “Then call me Faith,” she said.

  “So,” Merle said, apparently unaware of the chilly vibe Faith was sending out, “would you join Shane and I for lunch? I want to take him on a tour of the town after that.”

  She caught her bottom lip with her teeth. “I have some work to do—”

  “I understand,” Shane interrupted, realizing a chance to spend time with her was slipping away. He decided to play dirty. “You won't want to overtax your ank—”

  “—but of course, I'd love to come,” she said, sending a dark look his way.

  Shane figured she'd kick him if she could managed it with her injury. But he couldn't help enjoying the small victory he'd won. He had a feeling Faith would keep him on his toes.

  “Wonderful” Merle said. “How about Pritchard's? Faith, would you like to ride with us? We can meet back here.”

  “Uh, actually, I'll need to head straight home afterwards.” She flashed her boss a smile. “I'll meet you at the restaurant.”

  Shane wished she'd smile at him that way. Maybe he should consider growing a handlebar mustache.

  ***

  Faith popped a couple of pain pills in the church restroom and hoped she'd make it through lunch. She really should be home propping up her beleaguered ankle. But if she demurred, Merle would wonder why, and she wanted to keep things on track with her boss. If he deemed her accident-prone, maybe he'd start looking for a new employee who could better handle the rigors of the job. In this economy, she couldn't lean on the favors of kind family friends. Business was business.

  And then there was Shane. If he looked good in a khaki uniform, he looked even better in street clothes. Goodness, how had he not been snapped up by now? She figured him to be in his late twenties. Maybe he wasn't the family man type and relished his independence—which was typical of many rangers. She just wished he'd stop assessing her with his dark eyes. Did he consider her a rube as most from the city labeled those who lived in outlying areas? Maybe that's why he offered photography advice. Hmph.

  Faith had returned his look, doing a little of her own assessing. What was this guy's angle? Polite disinterest she could handle. Even light flirtation. But Shane looked at her in a way that made her think of dark plots. Maybe he was the Evil Relative come to town to claim what he viewed as his inheritance. Except Bascombe Productions was hardly a large concern. The company did well in its niche, but there wasn't anything worth plundering. Or maybe he thought she was out to fleece the lonely, older businessman and he planned to put a stop to it.

  Bottom line, what did it really matter what he thought of her? What mattered was keeping Merle happy and herself employed.

  Faith suppressed her angst as she got in her truck and headed toward Pritchard's. She usually avoided that particular restaurant. It reminded her too much of her waitressing days at a place called Cooper's Country Cookin'—the frilly uniforms, the vinyl shoes, the whole lack of a future thing. She had friends with jobs in trendy, high-end restaurant who made good money. And many of the ladies at Cooper's worked to rub elbows with the locals while augmenting their retirement income. But for a young woman with no prospects,
working in a tiny establishment even full-time just couldn't sustain her or her family for long.

  But today Merle wanted Pritchard's, so she'd ignore memories of her hardscrabble past. There wasn't exactly a wide variety of restaurants in John Day, which was why Faith rarely ate out—unless she counted the times she picked her dinner out of the freezer section of the grocery store.

  She shook her head to dislodge her melodramatic thoughts. Besides, it was her present, not her past, that was at issue at the moment. Shane was a new fixture in town. She had to get used to him on some level—as long as Merle kept her employed.

  Groaning at her one-track mind, she drove down the main street of town and tried to view it as Shane might. She figured he was a city boy—he spoke with just a hint of an industrial accent. What did he think of John Day? What was he seeking so far from the bustle of teeming civilization? Over the years, people who lived here either had established roots or were trying to flee something. Faith pulled into a parking slot and shut off the engine.

  She should know.

  A moment later, Merle's bright red Dodge Ram pulled in alongside her. Shane hurried to her door and offered to help, making sympathetic noises about her ankle. She sent him a warning glare, which only made him smile. Infuriating man.

  Once they were all ensconced in the restaurant—wood paneling, decorative plates lining the walls, and curlicue copper light fixtures—they perused their menus and ordered. Faith leaned back in her chair and surreptitiously hoisted her foot onto the chair seat opposite her, hoping Shane wouldn't notice. She listened to him and Merle talk about sports, the weather, and work. She kept her ears perked, still wondering if Merle planned on replacing her anytime soon. But his comments were too general to increase her anxiety.

  “You're awfully quiet,” Merle said suddenly, turning to her.

  “Just listening to you two.” Faith decided she was being childish. She sent a smile toward Shane. “So, tell me how you ended up in John Day.”

  Shane sent her another one of his enigmatic looks. “I grew up in Detroit and wanted out of the city.”

  Faith cocked her head slightly. Called it.

  “I've worked in Arizona and Idaho, but didn't quite feel at home. When a job opened in Oregon near Merle, I decided to try out a new state.”

  Faith guessed there was more he wasn't telling her, but she understood the inhibition. “Are there any other areas on your list of places to work?” How long are you staying? Are you a threat?

  “I for one hope you'll settle here,” Merle said. “I like having family close.”

  Faith regarded the older man. He didn't often speak of his family. He'd never mentioned siblings, but he must have had at least one to end up with a nephew. Was he estranged from a brother or sister? Faith thought of the sisters she hadn't spoken to in years. They weren't estranged exactly. They'd just each decided to go their own way. Had any of them married? Could she be an aunt and not know it? Now that was a discouraging thought.

  “What about you?”

  Faith looked at Shane, realizing he was asking her a question. “Um, I came here...when I was eighteen. I lived closer to the valley originally.”

  Nice and vague. Just the way she liked it.

  “Why John Day? It's a bit remote for the average person.”

  She schooled her expression. “The word remote is the appeal. No noise, no chaos. Just peace and panoramas.”

  Merle smiled. “Sounds like a good line for the next brochure.” He leaned back in his chair and looked at his nephew. “You know, it was a place like this restaurant where I first met Faith.”

  Faith suppressed a groan, wishing her boss wouldn't bring up old history.

  “She was a waitress in high school, working to support her twin sisters.”

  Here we go. She inwardly cringed at the unwanted traipse down memory lane.

  “Where do your sisters live now?” Shane asked, pinning her with his dark eyes.

  “Other side of the Cascades,” she said, purposefully ambiguous. How would it look if she said she didn't really know?

  “Let me see if I get this right—the Cascades are the main mountain chain through the state that separate the east from the west.”

  “Partly,” Faith said, “the Coastal Range near the beach coupled with the Cascades is what makes the Willamette Valley. The mountains keep the climate fairly temperate there, while here on the eastern side—”

  “You get the weather extremes because it's more exposed,” Shane finished with a gleam in his eye. “I read up on it before I moved here.”

  He read up on it. Exactly. Reminding herself to refrain from snarkiness, she nodded. “But not everyone can handle the extremes. I hope you're up for it.” Oops. Snark alert.

  He grinned. “I'm used to a different kind of extreme from inner city life, but I think I can handle it.”

  “Storms, dangerous animals...”

  “Headstrong females...”

  She arched her brow in response, then suddenly realized they'd excluded Merle from their battle of wills moment.

  Awkward.

  “Headstrong can be a good quality,” Merle said bemusedly. “Faith's momma was sick, so she worked to help pay for groceries. Not many teenagers would be that responsible. Around that time, she entered a photograph in a local newspaper contest and won. I saw she had an eye for photography, so I offered her a summer job and she's been with me ever since.”

  “Okay, Merle,” Faith said, keeping her tone light, “I'm sure Shane doesn't want to hear about boring past history.” She stole a look at the ranger, embarrassed both by rising to his challenge, and the knowledge that Merle had caught the undercurrent. “I'm sure he'd rather talk about man stuff—hunting, football—”

  “It's technically baseball season and hunting season doesn't start until the fall,” Shane said, a twinkle in his eye.

  Rats. He'd noticed her lame attempt at misdirection. Might make him even more inquisitive.

  Their food arrived and Faith was thankful for the distraction. After a quick prayer, Merle and Shane talked about the business, photography, and current land laws. As each moment passed, Faith became more and more convinced that Shane would eventually be taking her place at Bascombe Productions. And why shouldn't he? He was family. And obviously she was being unprofessional to challenge him in any way. How could she fight for something that never really belonged to her in the first place?

  She made a face at her food and wished she were home. As soon as it was polite to do so, she got up and excused herself, pleading fatigue. Merle seemed surprised. He patted her arm. “I'll see you Monday, then.”

  Shane's surprised expression turned to a frown. She ignored it.

  After a quick goodbye, Faith hurried to the entrance as fast as her throbbing ankle would take her. But before she made it to the door, Shane was suddenly at her side, making her start.

  His smile appeared more cautious than genial. “I wanted to let you know I'd welcome your company on my routes if you're looking for new places to shoot. Safety in numbers and all that.”

  Faith stared up at him. At his proximity she noticed an amber ring around the brown iris of his eyes. “Um, well, yes, that would be nice.” Of course, she didn't need a babysitter when she went on day hikes. He'd probably ratted her out to Merle after fussing at her about hiking alone.

  He leaned a fraction closer. “I'm heading to the Indian Rock scenic area tomorrow. It's not restricted, but I was told of an old mining road most backpackers are unaware of that heads to a lookout. Want to tag along?”

  She hadn't been to that area yet. Faith was torn between capitalizing on an opportunity and wondering what Shane's agenda might be. That he had one, she had no doubt.

  “And it'll be a driving tour. You're not ready to hike on t
hat ankle yet.”

  He had her there. “It was only a light sprain.”

  “You should be home with it propped up.”

  “I know how to care for a sprain.”

  Instead of being offended at her peevishness, he grinned. “I failed to mention I'm also certified in first aid, so should you need to be carried to your car...”

  Faith arched a brow. “I'll be at the office in the morning.”

  “I'll see you then.” He held the door open for her.

  It took a concerted effort to walk without a limp to her car. She knew he was watching. But when she turned around, he was gone.

  Chapter Four

  Faith wasn't nervous as she sat in front of her computer the next morning. Knocking over her coffee, dropping her pen several times, and constantly glancing at the clock meant nothing more than the usual Monday mishaps. She wondered if she should brush her hair again.

  Faith grimaced, angry with herself. Mentally, she was suspicious of Shane—and unsure of her place in his plans when it came to his uncle. So why did she catch herself checking her reflection in the bathroom mirror to fluff her hair and reapply lip gloss? So Shane was attractive. Lots of men were. Good looks happened. It was the luck of the draw genetically speaking and had no bearing on anything—unless the genetically blessed wanted to edge her out of Bascombe Productions.

  Clenching her fists, Faith chastised herself for her dark thoughts. It wasn't completely outside the possibility that Shane was a nice person who wanted to get to know his uncle's sole employee. Maybe he got bored going along his routes alone. This way he could have company and assure himself that she was an asset to Merle's business. Two birds with one stone and all that. And there was the safety factor she couldn't deny.

  Instead of fighting Shane and all his intrusion to her life he represented, she reminded herself the Lord was directing her life. She'd asked God for direction, so it was possible Shane was part of that. If God direction was for her to work elsewhere, then that was that. But her stomach clenched anyway.