by Jill Gregory
And what happened?
What always seemed to happen. Nothing.
She’d shown up at the Lucky Punch Saloon for dinner with him and never made it as far as sitting down at a table, much less picking up a menu.
She’d swept into the Lucky Punch in her new red stilettos, wearing her new red lipstick and a dress the same color, which she’d ordered online—a pretty, knee-length silky number that her sister-in-law, who viewed her modeling it on Skype, insisted made her look five pounds thinner.
So she felt almost beautiful for once as she peered around the room for Cal—and there the bastard was—cozying up at the bar with a rail-thin brunette in tight jeans and a glittery scoop-necked top. The girl’s boobs were as false looking as her eyelashes and she could barely be old enough to have graduated college.
And didn’t look smart enough to get into one.
“Uh…Laureen. Hey.”
He spotted her and sauntered over, flushing just a little, while the brunette watched, sipping her wine and eyeing the other men lined up at the bar.
“Uh, look, Laureen, this isn’t going to happen.”
“What do you mean by that?” she managed to bite out in a tight little voice, shock, anger, and humiliation squeezing through every pore of her body.
But he pretended not to notice. “It’s nothing personal, honey. Honest. But I met someone else. It just happened. I lost your phone number, or I’d have called you. Don’t worry—they can keep that donation for the animal shelter—but you and me…honey, it just isn’t meant to be.”
“Damned straight it isn’t, you slimeball—” she began, but he turned on his heel and hurried back to the brunette before she could finish telling him where he could go.
Feeling like an idiot, she spun around and headed out of there as fast as she could walk in those damned shoes. But she saw Big Billy wiping down the bar, casting a couple of glances at her as she fought to keep the anger from showing in her face.
It was hard to read his eyes, but there might have been a flicker of pity there.
Laureen had ducked out faster than you could slap a tick.
Guess it’s just my lucky week, she decided, staring in disgust at the red engine light on her dashboard. Now she’d have to fork over even more money at the body shop—and be late for work. And Carly was counting on her to open up—
Her car sputtered. Crap. Crap. And crapola.
Then it did more than sputter…it jolted…slowed…stopped.
Laureen choked back a shriek of frustration as she realized a tire had gone flat. Engine light, flat tire. What next? A hurricane whirling across the sky and blowing her and her piece-of-crap car into the next county? Into a sink-hole?
She grabbed for her purse and dug for her cell phone. She’d better let Carly know she’d be late opening the shop. Of course this had to happen the one day Carly said she was coming in late….
But…shit. Her cell phone. It wasn’t in her purse.
It was…
Laureen groaned. It was still charging in the kitchen, plugged in next to the microwave.
She’d skipped breakfast that morning, her stomach still topsy-turvy after her not-a-date date the previous night, and she hadn’t even noticed that she didn’t have her phone….
Laureen threw open the car door, slung her purse over her shoulder, and started walking, wondering when in hell this spell of bad luck was going to change.
But she hadn’t gone more than about twenty yards when an SUV came over a rise in the distance. It was coming fast, from the direction of town—a big black Explorer. The windows must have been rolled down, she decided, because some mean rock-and-roll was blasting, loud enough to waft clear up to the peaks of the Crazies.
The driver must be flooring it, she thought. It was coming real fast….
She scooted to the side of the road and was startled when the driver slammed on the brakes. The Explorer screeched to a stop just as it passed her, then it quickly backed up.
The music disappeared. Big Billy leaned out the driver’s-side window. The tattoos covering his thick neck gleamed like spilled ink in the sunlight.
“Hey, babe, it’s a long way to town. Looks like you could use a lift.”
Chapter Twenty-four
“You got an appointment, son? I’m busy.”
Teddy Hodge plunked down his coffee cup and pushed his chair back from his computer. His shrewd gray eyes lasered in on Brady Farraday, but the young man standing tall in his doorway seemed undeterred by the cold-eyed stare of a career lawman.
“No, sir, no appointment, but this won’t take long.” Brady moved toward the sheriff’s large desk, littered with files and folders and empty Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup candy wrappers. He met Hodge’s stare unflinchingly.
“How’d you get past Lonnie?” the sheriff growled.
His secretary was a fierce watchdog. Only his deputy or his wife or granddaughter could get in this office without her waving them through. She was very protective of Teddy’s space, something he didn’t always appreciate.
Until moments like this one.
“I brought Lonnie a cinnamon bun from the bakery. And a half dozen chocolate-covered strawberries.” Farraday’s eyes glinted. “Then I told her I needed to speak to you about a matter of the heart and I wouldn’t keep you more than three minutes.”
A matter of the heart. Teddy stiffened. “That’s all it took?”
The sheriff’s lips twisted in disgust. Lonnie was usually tougher than that. But, knowing his own wife’s affection for chocolate, he reckoned the boy had hit on the one weakness a lot of women had in common.
“Well, you’ve wasted two minutes already, so you’d better talk fast.” He leaned way back in his chair. Matter of the heart, be damned. The Farraday kid smiled at him, but that smile didn’t get anywhere near his eyes. He looked damned determined—downright resolute.
Hodge would give him that much.
And nothing more.
“I’ve apologized to Deputy Mueller for that sucker punch I laid on him. But I never did apologize to you, sir. It was your officer I hit, and I had no business doing it.”
Hodge said nothing, just sat as still as a fence post, with his hands clamped on his stomach.
“Mueller’s a good man,” Brady Farraday said. “But I wasn’t one on that day. I…I kinda lost myself for a while. I don’t even know that man who acted that way—throwing a punch at an officer of the law. And I did a few other things I’m not proud of. But that’s not me, not who I really am, and I’m trying to be a better man. Trying to find the best in me again. And to be a man who deserves—”
He broke off and, for the first time, Hodge saw him swallow hard, saw the tension in his body, the telltale muscle flick in his neck. And he knew what the boy was doing didn’t come easy for him.
He also knew, somehow, that what he was going to say next really mattered.
But Hodge showed nothing, said nothing, giving him no help. Just glared at him in as intimidating a manner as he could muster, which, after forty years on the force, was pretty powerful stuff.
“I bid on that date with Madison because I care about her. And I believe she cares about me. It’d be nice to have your blessing before we go on that date, so she knows you won’t be angry with her. Could be it’s the only date we ever have—or maybe not. That’s up to her. But Madison’s been through a lot, sir, and she shouldn’t have to lose anyone else that matters in her life. Especially not because of me—”
Hodge jerked forward in his chair. “You really think you can come between me and my granddaughter?” he asked furiously.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Brady spoke quickly, but stood his ground. “I don’t want Madison worried. I don’t want her having to be torn up about anything. You and Mrs. Hodge are real important to her. So I’m telling you personally that I’m sorry I hit your deputy and—”
“You’ve done what you came to do, Farraday. Now get out.”
Brady’s broad sho
ulders stiffened. He frowned and started to turn away, but Hodge pushed himself heavily to his feet.
“Hold on! Just what are your intentions?” he spat out, and the younger man spun around to stare at him. “This is my granddaughter we’re talking about.”
“Yes, sir. And my intentions are to see where things go between us. To respect Madison—and to find out if she…well, if we…Actually, sir, our intentions are between the two of us, no disrespect meant.”
Hodge pursed his lips. Not bad for a hotheaded young man. Farraday seemed to have a cooler head these days. Must’ve come to his senses since that day he slugged Zeke.
Madison had certainly been a whole lot less polite than this when Teddy had his wife invite her over to dinner so he could try to talk her out of going on any kind of a date with Brady Farraday. His granddaughter had told him in the bluntest of terms that she expected him to mind his own business. She said she loved him, and always would, but she could handle her own life all by herself and wouldn’t have anyone telling her what to do.
To Hodge’s disgust, his wife had sided with the girl unequivocally.
After that, Hodge had been so wound up, he hadn’t even wanted any of Joanie’s award-winning cherry-rhubarb pie for dessert. Not that she’d been too eager to give him any.
Instead he’d gone on a long walk. He’d come home good and winded and downed a glass of scotch before he had to listen to Joanie lecture him like some ten-year-old for a good half hour.
Now he looked the source of all the trouble over carefully. The boy had been unfailingly polite, but there was a mix of both youthful cockiness and manly resolution beneath the controlled surface. Hodge didn’t like weakness or kiss-asses any more than he liked criminals, so his estimation of the boy slid up a notch or two.
“Where you taking her on that date?” he asked gruffly.
“Lickety Split.” Brady cocked an eyebrow. “I promised her a double decker sundae. It’s pretty well lit and usually crowded in there so we can’t get into too much trouble, sir.”
“We’ll see about that. You’d better not hurt her.”
“I’d never do that.”
The sheriff let out his breath. “It took some guts to come in here and I respect that. But if you don’t treat my granddaughter right…” He let the words trail off meaningfully.
“That’ll never be a problem, sir.” The boy had the nerve to grin as he started toward the door with long, youthful strides. “You have my word. I’ll let you get back to work now, Sheriff. Be sure to give my best to Mrs. Hodge.”
He was gone before Teddy even had time to glare at his back.
Cocky young bastard. But…strong, too. Plenty of determination in that one.
Farraday had said all the right things. He’d better mean ’em. Because otherwise that young man might just find himself up to his ears in traffic tickets and jaywalking citations and whatever else Teddy could find to throw at him and make his life a living hell.
A satisfied smile touched his lips as he glanced down at the computer screen where a new batch of evidence reports had just popped up. He pushed the Farraday kid from his mind and got back to work.
Chapter Twenty-five
Carly stared out the window, filled with wonder as Jake’s truck rumbled past a pair of mountain goats straggling along the old jeep road. The largest hawk she’d ever seen wheeled overhead, its great wings seeming to sweep in slow motion as it circled the peaks of the Crazies.
They’d seen plenty of wildlife, tall waving grasses, and sweeping hillsides of pine and fir, but they hadn’t glimpsed another soul or vehicle since leaving Coyote Road.
She, Jake, and the mountain goats might have been alone in the wild vastness of Montana.
Then they cleared a rise and she saw the valley—and the tiny cabin ahead.
It looks like something out of an oil painting, Carly thought. Small, quaint, old as the trees, and beautiful. The cabin was dwarfed by a flank of huge ponderosa pines to the right, and in the distance, the jutting crests of the Crazies. A short distance beyond it, a lake glimmered like a beautiful jewel.
Blackbird Lake.
She’d heard it mentioned many times but had never seen it before now. The sun glinting on the lovely rippling water dazzled her almost as much as the weathered cabin. So did the great open spaces stretching in all directions. Jake had explained to her that they were on private land—Tanner land—a quarter mile from the Half Moon Campground and other public access roads leading into the rugged heart of the mountains and the alpine lakes nestled among them.
“So this is what you wanted to show me,” she murmured, feeling like she’d fallen under a spell, hurtled back in time to a quieter, more peaceful place.
“The lake and…my grandparents’ cabin.”
She turned to him, surprised. “Your grandparents lived here?”
“From the day they were married. My grandfather left parcels of land to all the grandkids, but the largest was the acreage where I built my own cabins.”
“Were you his favorite?”
“That’s what I always told Rafe, Travis, and Lissie.” He shot her a sideways grin.
A laugh burst from her. “How long did your grandparents live there?” She studied the small log structure as the truck bumped its way over the rough road.
“More than fifty-five years. They built it when they married, and raised three children there, including my father. Grandma Mae passed first, and a year later to the day, Grandpa Samuel’s heart gave out. Lissie went through the place inch by inch. She catalogued and stored all of our grandmother’s things and has shared them with Sophie and Mia over the years. We’ve cleaned out the cabin pretty much, but left some of the original furnishings. I thought you might want to see it.”
“Yes, I do. Very much.” Carly was fascinated by the sense of history the Tanners shared. “I don’t have anything to help me remember my parents. After my mother died, my relatives must have taken whatever belongings she had. They probably felt they had it coming as payment for taking me in.”
“Do you have good memories of her?”
“Oh, yes,” she said softly. “I remember her brushing my hair, braiding it very gently. Reading me stories every night. Looking back, I remember we didn’t have very much, but she always told me we had each other, and that mattered the most.”
“A wise woman. Like her daughter.”
As they rumbled closer to the cabin, awe filled her at the history of this Montana land, of this family. Not to mention this small cabin—preserved, honored, respected. It had been treasured in Jake’s family for three generations.
“I envy all the touchstones you have with your past.”
“We’re pretty lucky that way.” Jake glanced at her. “I always took it for granted. Rafe never did. Travis, either. But I always had something in me that compelled me to roam. My grandfather called it a twitch of the soul. On the other hand,” he said with a smile, “for a girl raised as something of a tumbleweed, you’ve got a talent for putting down roots.”
“Now, that’s ironic,” she murmured. “A tumbleweed. That’s how I’ve thought about you. You have all this to anchor you, and yet you wander far from home. Once I found my home here, I knew I didn’t want to ever leave it.”
“You made a home here.” Jake put the truck in park twenty yards from the cabin and turned to look at her. “You came here knowing only Martha, and you made a home for our daughter. You gave her a place to belong. You did it all alone, and—”
“Not all alone,” she protested, blushing. “I learned about home from Annie. She taught me what it meant to be safe, loved, cared for from the time I was ten. And I wanted that for Emma more than anything. I wanted her to have those things from the very start. I couldn’t bear the thought that she’d ever feel—” She broke off, her chest so tight with emotion it was difficult to find the words.
“Abandoned? Adrift?” Jake asked softly.
“Yes. That’s it exactly. I never wanted her to feel unwan
ted. As if she didn’t belong anywhere…or to anyone. Thanks to Martha, neither of us ever did. And Lonesome Way welcomed us with wide-open arms. From the moment we came here, I knew that if anything ever happened to me, Martha would be there for Emma and that your family would be, too. They’d take her in, love her.”
Suddenly she spoke quickly, unburdening herself of the last secret she’d kept from him.
“I have a will, Jake. It explains that Emma is your daughter, that she’s a Tanner. If something ever happened to me, I wanted to be sure she’d have Martha and your family to take her in and care about her. I wanted the Tanners to know her from the very beginning. I…I wanted them to care about her. After only a few weeks in Lonesome Way it was obvious that your family sticks together, so I was sure that if something ever happened to me, and my will was read, they’d love her, accept her. Look after her, not just out of obligation…but…”
Her voice wavered, and Jake swallowed hard.
“Aw, Carly. Damn. I wish I’d known. I know that night I never gave you any reason to think I cared a damn about anyone other than myself, but I did…I do….”
“I know that, Jake. Now.” Impulsively, she brought her hand to his cheek. “I knew you were a good man, but I didn’t give you the benefit of the doubt when it came to Emma. It never even occurred to me. I was so convinced that the little I knew about you was all there was. But I couldn’t have been more wrong.”
“It’s my fault, Carly, not yours. You did great. You were under stress, alone, and look at all you’ve done. The life you’ve built for Emma here, it’s amazing. Now it’s my turn to show you how important she is to me. How important—”
He broke off suddenly, thinking better of whatever he’d been about to say. “Come on inside. I want to show you the cabin. Then we’ll have our picnic before I get you back to the shop.”