Carrie was back in Cherry Lake within the month.
“I’ve come a long way, thanks to Donna,” said Trish. “She told me I needed to rediscover my… sensual side. And that you’d be able to help me.”
Donna had begged Carrie not to leave.
Trish stopped abruptly as Becky appeared with their salads. They both smiled tightly, waiting for the waitress to leave. Carrie picked up her fork, but her appetite was gone.
Trish’s cheeks were pink and she was blinking too quickly. Carrie knew this was a difficult moment for her.
“I’m honored to be considered for part of your journey in this way, Trish,” she said softly. “But I haven’t done this sort of thing in a long, long time.”
Panic crossed Trish’s face. “But you’ll do it for me, won’t you? Donna said you were the best.”
Carrie took a sip of ice water, choosing her words.
“Maybe I was, once.”
Trish needed to understand that photo documentation of this chapter of her life, while hopefully bringing closure, would also commemorate it, preserve it, in a way. No matter how carefully she might hide it, file it as over and done, there would always be a chance that sometime, somehow, someone would come across it, forcing her to face it once more.
It had taken Trish a great deal of courage to trust Carrie with her story. She deserved to know that her photographer might not be worthy of that trust.
“I’ll show you my previous work,” she said. “But I have to tell you something, first.”
*
“Hello, I’m Ethan Nash,” said Ethan, holding his hand out. “You must be Mrs. Terlecki.”
Mrs. Terlecki looked him up and down, then reluctantly took his hand. “Since it says so on the door, I guess it must be true. And I know who you are. What brings you here?”
“I’m looking for the computer science department, actually,” he said, keeping a determined smile on his face.
“The reason being…?”
“As you might know, cyber-security is my business. I’ve identified this location as the source of a recent hacking attempt. I hoped to speak with the head of the department, if possible.”
“Is this anything to do with that whole Carrie Logan thing?”
The woman’s face closed in on itself, making her look like a prune.
“Ma’am,” said Ethan mildly, “I’m sure you know my work is of a highly confidential nature.”
“Oh, we don’t hold with that here,” she said. “And don’t try and use that high and mighty stuff on me. I know who you really are.”
Though she tried to hide it, her expression took on a sneaky, triumphant air. Here we go, thought Ethan.
“Of course you know me,” he said. “I just introduced myself.”
“Of course,” she said, the smarmy smile still in place. “The guy who bought the old Lewis place.”
“That’s right.”
“Did you enjoy tearing down that old house?”
“Excuse me?”
“Did you even spare a thought for what it might mean to this town to have a heritage site like that? The old world roses alone were a treasure. It might have put Cherry Lake on the map but no, you had to swan in with your bags of money and thoughtless arrogance and raze it to the ground, with no thought of anyone but yourself.”
She threw the words at him like little grenades. He took a step back.
“Oh,” she said, crossing her arms. “You didn’t know about that? I’m not surprised. The mayor has his pride, as do we all. But I’ll guarantee that Nathan Jackson hasn’t forgotten who destroyed a piece of his heritage.”
Ethan reeled, his thoughts spinning. Nathan Jackson. Carrie’s grandfather?
Mrs. Terlecki got to her feet and took his elbow. “Now that you have a better understanding of your place in the world, may I show you to the computer science department?”
“Mrs. Terlecki,” he began, as she propelled him into the hallway. “I assure you, I had no idea of any heritage value when I purchased my property.”
“If you say so.”
“I didn’t. I purchased it from Robert Jackson. Surely, if it had sentimental value to the family, he’d have told me.”
“I’m sure it’s none of my business.” Having said her piece, she was finished with him. “Here you go. You can find your way out when you’re done, I’m sure.”
And she left.
This couldn’t be true, thought Ethan. But if he’d unknowingly offended Carrie’s family, it gave him still more reason to stay away from her. He’d be the last person they wanted her involved with.
“Mr. Nash?”
A pleasant-faced man wearing a plaid shirt and khaki pants approached, with his hand outstretched.
“Call me Ethan,” he said. “I’m looking for the computer science department.”
“You found it. Don Ackerman, department head, such as it is. I have to admit, I’m surprised to see you. What brings you here?”
Ethan dragged his thought away from the Jackson family.
“Surprised? Why?”
Ackerman looked taken aback. “Well. No reason, I suppose. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t make assumptions.”
But there’d been a reason. And Ethan had a feeling he knew who was behind it.
“I run a cyber-security business,” he told the teacher. “Do you mind if I ask a few questions about your students’ activities?”
“I’m supervising a class at the moment, but if you don’t mind talking in the hallway, sure.”
Don Ackerman spent a quick, hushed minute telling him about how stretched the budget was, how his students were constantly either gaming behind his back, or attempting to hack into the CIA, or trying to create malicious code. He was obviously frustrated.
“These kids are really talented,” he said, “but they need more than I can give them.”
“Would you mind if I took a look at what they’re working on?”
“Sure.” He led Ethan into the room and introduced him as an observer, instructing them to go on with their work.
One station was empty.
“May I?” asked Ethan.
“Of course.”
Several of the students exchanged glances, then pretended they weren’t watching. Yeah, thought Ethan. I’ve got your number.
Quickly, he routed the browser history, deftly working past the outdated security systems. Within minutes, he’d found what he was hoping not to find.
He heard a snicker.
“That’s the school photographer,” someone said in a stage whisper.
“What?” said Ackerman.
Cries of “I didn’t do it” echoed around the room, accompanied by more laughter and a few bawdy-toned comments.
Don Ackerman looked horrified. “That’s enough! Mr. Nash, I don’t know what to say.”
Ethan said nothing but focused on deleting the images off the network, double-checking for any clever storage spots or holes the brats might have managed to create.
If you could harness fifteen-year-old testosterone, he thought, you could move the world.
“A word?” he said as he shut down the machine.
Once in the hallway again, Ackerman set about apologizing. “I stop one, and two more get up to something worse,” he said. “I feel terrible about Carrie. I hope this hasn’t harmed her in any way.”
“Of course it’s affected her,” said Ethan shortly. “How could it not? Your firewalls are a joke. Your equipment, software and hardware, is in dire need of upgrades. This department might have singlehandedly destroyed her business. If I were her, I’d sue.”
Any pleasantness in Don Ackerman’s face disappeared. “Tell it to the mayor. Thanks for stopping by, Mr. Nash. I need to get back to my students.”
Again, it came back to Calloway.
He stomped back toward the front door, only to be stopped by Mrs. Terlecki. “Did you find what you were looking for, Mr. Nash?”
He whirled to face her. “Yes and no. Why does Mayor Calloway have it out
for me?”
“I already told you,” she said, blinking.
“Yeah, yeah, I tore down the old house I bought.”
“Oh no, Mr. Nash,” she continued. “It’s not just that. Mayor Calloway wanted to buy the property himself. He was in the process of getting investors to go in with him, when you showed up, offering full price, and no subjects. You stole the deal out from under him, Ethan. I thought you knew.”
Chapter Fifteen
‡
Carrie’s cell phone buzzed, notifying her that she’d received a text message.
Ethan.
Her confrontation with Gibson Kyle was forgotten as she looked at the screen.
Gun still misses you.
He’d attached a photo of the dog lying on a blanket, all stitches and shaved patches and red, healing wounds.
Nerves from one conflict shifted to another as all the jumbled panicky feelings of that night returned, Ethan bare-chested and bloodied, his eyes frantic, the limp body of his dog slipping over his ropy muscled arms, the metallic-smelling stickiness of the steering wheel.
The warmth of his hands as he helped her change in Doc Morrow’s chilly washroom.
The torment in his eyes as they’d met in the mirror as he deliberately, with finality, set her aside.
It was as if that kiss had never happened.
Another buzz.
Now, he was calling? After ignoring her?
I miss you, too.
This time he attached a selfie, with an uncharacteristic goofy grin, his black eyebrows raised questioningly.
She bit back a laugh.
I’m visiting the patient, if you want to join me.
Carrie felt her own face lifting in a matching grin.
I’m guessing you wouldn’t turn down some food, she typed.
The response was quick. You? Have food?
Her thumbs flew over the keypad.
I seem to recall a steak dinner that never happened?
Come on, he answered. You gotta gimme a pass for that. Medical emergency and all.
It felt good to banter with him again.
She’d tried not to take it personally when she hadn’t heard from Ethan but it was hard not to. Maybe, she thought, the chill she’d felt wasn’t about her. It was about his worry for the dog.
She grabbed her bag, trying not to think about what his reaching out meant, trying to ignore the bubbly feeling inside her, and what that meant.
It all might mean absolutely nothing.
But this was her life, she told herself as she walked to her vehicle. It was high time she allowed herself to want something.
*
Ethan waited for Carrie with a mixture of dread and anticipation. He couldn’t wait to see her again. He wanted to be sure she was okay. That she was weathering the storm, that her clients had come back, that the repercussions of her leaked photos weren’t as bad as she’d feared they would be.
But he knew that wouldn’t be the case. And worse, he needed to tell her himself that there might be more coming. He didn’t want her to learn from someone else about how the hackers at school had found her pictures.
And lastly, he desperately wanted to know if her family indeed held a grudge against him for destroying a family heritage site.
He’d never have purchased the ranch, if he’d have known. Or would he? It had been an excellent deal. There was nothing illegal or unethical about it. He’d known there was another interested party, but that they were unable to outbid him. How could the Jackson family possibly hold a grudge against him for paying full price? For God’s sake, it had been Robert Jackson who’d sold it to him!
In New York, there’d have been no question about it. And if Vincent had asked him, he’d have said, hell, yeah, brother. Do it.
But things were different here, now. He wasn’t the same guy he’d been. And if he’d truly created hard feelings in Cherry Lake, he’d have to find a way to make amends.
He’d never have a chance with Carrie, otherwise.
If he’d ever even had one.
Gun lifted his head. His expression changed. For a second, his goofball doggy grin returned and a moment later, Ethan heard the sound of tires on asphalt.
Gun’s tail thumped the blanket with enthusiasm, this time.
“I know, buddy,” he said.
Carrie parked behind his truck and walked over to them, her bright smile the sweetest thing he’d seen all day.
“Hey, boys,” she called, all bright and sassy.
Ethan got to his feet and Gun struggled to do so as well.
She had on a swirly sundress, in an orangey-red color and her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail that danced behind her as she walked. Her arms were bare, revealing muscles defined from years of carting around weighty equipment.
A camera accompanied the bag over her shoulder and in her hand she held up a brown paper bag. “Roast beef, turkey breast, honey ham. Sound good?”
“You, Carrie Logan, are an angel.”
“Flatterer.”
She was the sweetest thing he’d seen all week. The dog seemed to understand that she’d helped him, and his obvious joy at her presence loosened the tightness in her expression.
“Hey, you pathetic thing,” she said, kneeling down to fondle Gun’s ears, carefully staying clear of his facial and throat lacerations.
Carefully staying clear of Ethan.
She snapped a few quick pictures.
“So we can keep track of his healing,” she said.
He smiled. “Photographic evidence of his journey.”
Trust Carrie to know exactly how to break the ice. Gun whined his pleasure and slurped a big, pink tongue over her cheek. Ethan wished he could be so open about his own excitement at seeing Carrie.
“Gun,” he admonished, but Carrie only laughed. The caution in her eyes faded.
“Thanks for coming.”
“You sounded hungry,” she said.
He met her gaze. “Always.”
She bit the corner of her lip. “Good. That’s good.”
To his utter shock, she leaned over to brush his lips with hers, a quick tentative greeting.
“Roast beef okay?” she murmured against his mouth.
“This is better.” He nipped at her full bottom lip. She pulled away, touching her tongue to the spot where his teeth had just been, which made him want to do a lot more than kiss her.
“On sourdough,” she added, breathlessly. “Slaw on the side. Damn, you know how to break a girl’s train of thought.”
“Uh, you started it.”
He opened up the blanket so that they could both stretch out on it, with Gun on one end, and the food on the other.
For a dog that had gone off his food, he was displaying an indecent interest in the sandwiches Carrie had brought. Ethan, on the other hand, couldn’t have cared less if she’d brought tofu on shoe leather. He was still reeling breathlessly from that kiss. And wondering how long he should wait until repeating it.
She opened a small plastic bag to reveal thin slices of roast beef.
“I know you don’t let them have people food,” she said, “but I thought, since he’s convalescing and all…”
Gun squirmed closer, whining, until he could lay his head in Carrie’s lap. Lucky guy.
“You’re definitely a dog person. I’m not sure who’s manipulating who,” said Ethan with a laugh. It felt wonderful to see the dog showing signs of life.
It felt wonderful that Carrie understood how worried he was about his dog. It felt wonderful to see her again. To be with her.
To kiss her.
“Do you want it?” Carrie held a slice in her hand.
Gun barked, one gentle woof.
“Okay.” She balled up the slice and held it out to him on the palm of her hand. He picked it off with unexpected delicacy, then licked his lips and stared at her.
“Now you’ve done it,” said Ethan. “Give me the rest. I’ll mix it with his kibble and with any luck, he�
��ll get a proper meal out of the deal.”
He settled the dog back to his spot on the blanket, so he and Carrie could eat uninterrupted. Gun accepted his demotion with good grace, sniffed the bowl Ethan handed him and then proceeded to eat it all.
“That’s the most appetite he’s shown since it happened,” said Ethan. “I don’t know if it’s the beef, or your company.”
She looked at him with mock outrage. “My company, of course.”
He smiled, feeling lighter than he had in days. “Of course.”
They ate their lunch in companionable, easy-going conversation. It felt so right between them.
When they were finished, Carrie gathered their trash.
“Time to get the patient back for his therapy,” said Ethan.
“I’d say I should get back to work,” said Carrie, brushing crumbs off her skirt, “but I’m free as a bird.”
She spoke lightly, but there was an undercurrent that answered his questions about her business.
“I’m sorry, Carrie.”
She shrugged. “Actually, I met with a potential new client recently.”
Something about the way she said it made him look up.
“A client?” he said. “You mean, like your other work?”
Her face split into a grin. “Uh-huh. Is this a huge mistake, Ethan? I’m so excited about it. But that’ll be it for me with the school board. I don’t know what to think.”
This was the opening he’d been dreading. Quickly, he sketched out what he’d learned from Don Ackerman. But she simply shrugged. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter anymore how or when it happened or who started it. Maybe I just need to accept that. It’s all out in the open. Those who judge will judge. The rest, I guess, are my friends. I only wish…”
She trailed off and he knew what she couldn’t say. She only wished that the judgment wasn’t coming from her family.
“You’re so brave, Carrie Logan,” he said.
She looked at him then, her eyes wide and blue and trusting. “Thank you. You are too, you know.”
He chuckled. “I’m a man. Of course I’m brave.”
She punched his arm, lightly, then pulled back her arm at Gun’s worried look.
“Just kidding, Gunny-Sack,” she said. “Any more trouble with Animal Control?”
“No, but Carrie,” he said, determined to get it all out on the table. “Someone told me that the old farmhouse I tore down before I built my house had sentimental value to your grandfather. Is that true?”
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