by D'Ann Lindun
Mesa shook her head. “No. I liked it growing up, but with the ski resort nearby I knew there was a better chance I could make an inn work, so I sold the land and put everything into the house.”
Kade nodded, but Mesa had a sinking feeling he distrusted her.
Just like everyone else.
CHAPTER THREE
The storm continued to rage as late afternoon fell into early evening.
When Mesa moved to build a fire in the living room fireplace, Kade jumped to do it. Surprised, she stood by as he placed logs in the opening and lit them. It had been a long time since any man but Joe had helped her.
Soon, the logs began to crackle, spreading warmth throughout the house. For a moment, Mesa let her mind slip back to when her father, mother and she had been a normal happy family, gathered around the fireplace during winter evenings. This time of year had always been especially happy with the apple harvest behind them and Christmas just around the corner.
Mesa blinked the memory away before it took hold of her.
She’d learned to bury reminiscences long ago. All they did was hurt and make her long for things she’d never have. No way would she ever trust a man and have him let her down like her dad had. Marriage, children, a family were not in her cards. The life she’d made here at the inn was all she had. And it was plenty.
“Are you hungry?” she asked the marshal.
“I could eat.” He grinned, and she was struck by the change from stern lawman to a handsome stranger.
Don’t go there!
She moved toward the kitchen. “I made chili last night, and there’s plenty of leftovers.”
“That sounds great.”
Together, they walked into the kitchen, and she busied herself pouring the leftovers into a pot and placing it on the stove. She took cheese from the fridge and crackers from the pantry, all the while trying not to dwell on the marshal’s sexiness.
He sat at the counter, idly playing with a stack of napkins. He was entirely too close, making her pulse pound in an uneven rhythm. “There are bowls behind you, in the cupboard. Do you mind grabbing a couple?”
He stood, and her gaze landed on his Wrangler-clad rear. Nice. Lord, she needed a night on the town. Find a skier who didn’t know her family history to work out her pent up energy with.
Trouble was that just wasn’t her.
Sleeping with strangers had never appealed to her.
She took two bottles of water from the fridge and placed them on the table and glasses from the dishwasher. Filling them with ice, she lined everything up on the butcher block counter. “As soon as this chili heats we can eat.”
“Smells good,” Kade said.
“I didn’t cook it, Anna did.” Mesa grabbed spoons from a drawer. “She takes care of the food.” She smiled ruefully. “I’m not a great cook.”
“You made pies,” Kade reminded her.
She shrugged. “I can bake a few things. My mom taught me, but I leave the cooking for the guests to Anna. Wait until you taste her chili. You’ll see.”
“Speaking of, it’s boiling.” Kade pointed to the pot on the stove.
Mesa grabbed the pan. “It’s ready.”
Kade filled his bowl and took a bite. “You’re right, Anna is a good cook.”
With a nod, Mesa wished the compliment was for her. “She is.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes, then Kade spoke. “Do you visit your father often?’
Mesa’s appetite vanished. She shook her head. “No. Never.”
Kade cut a piece of the Colby-Jack and offered it to her. “He’s in Caňon City for one thing.” She stirred her chili. “It’s a long trip for an hour’s visit.”
“About four hours,” Kade said.
She reluctantly lifted her gaze to his. “I don’t like to see him there.”
“Have you ever gone?”
“In the beginning, I went every weekend.” She sipped water. “But it got harder and harder until I couldn’t take it anymore and stopped putting myself through it.”
“Probably pretty hard on him not seeing you,” Kade said mildly.
Guilt welled up in her. “You don’t know what it’s like having a family member in prison.”
“Maybe not, but I do know what it’s like to wish your family gave a damn.” He sounded bitter but didn’t elaborate.
“Maybe I’ll go see him this Christmas.” Mesa abruptly stood and began clearing the meal. “Want pie?”
A smile broke out across Kade’s face. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Curiosity burned through Mesa as she cut and served them each a piece of apple pie. Who in his family did he wish gave a darn? “You have a big family?”
He paused, the pie halfway to his mouth. “Mother, father, two brothers. Three sisters.”
“That sounds nice.” Mesa had always wished for siblings.
“It wasn’t,” he said. “My father liked to use us for punching bags.”
She stared at him in horror. “Why?”
He put a piece of dessert in his mouth and chewed. He swallowed. “I have no idea. He had a lot of anger, I guess.”
By the tone of his voice, she could tell the subject had been closed. He confirmed it by standing. “Thank you for dinner. I’m going to check the house again.”
~*~
Kade double checked every downstairs door and window. Secure. As he worked, he wondered what had possessed him to share any of his past with a witness. Getting involved with Mesa wasn’t an option. Not only would she to have to testify at Spencer’s trial when they caught him again, she wasn’t his type. He liked busty blondes who knew the score. Not girl-next-door types with haunted green eyes.
The air seemed a lot colder on the second floor. Odd. He hadn’t noticed it being this icy when Mesa showed him around earlier. All his senses went on alert. He stopped to listen. Nothing.
The storm seemed louder.
Like a window had been left open.
“Shit!”
He grabbed his revolver and sprinted down the hallway. The door to Joe and Anna’s apartment stood ajar, cold air pouring through it. Slowing, Kade entered, his finger on the trigger. “Come out with your hands up, Spencer!”
No answer.
Cautiously, Kade flipped on the light switch by the door and looked around. A living room and kitchen all in one room, a bedroom and bathroom. Tidy, small. And empty.
But it had been entered.
The front door stood wide open, snow blowing inside.
Kade stepped out on the staircase, but couldn’t see any footprints. Snow had piled up, obliterating any tracks. The wind whipped big flakes into his face, and he backed into the apartment and pushed the door shut against the howling wind, making sure it was securely locked.
Had Joe or Anna accidently left their front door open? Had the wind pushed it, or had Spencer attempted entry? Kade cursed himself for not insisting Mesa let him in when they’d been up here earlier. He exited the apartment and closed the door behind him with his mind racing.
If Spencer had come inside, he was getting more desperate. How far would he go to gain access to the house? Was the killer only seeking shelter, or was there another reason for his repeated attempts to get in? Was the stolen money hidden here somewhere?
Kade checked each bedroom but found every one exactly the way he’d seen it earlier. He holstered his gun and went downstairs.
Mesa stood at the fireplace, her hands outstretched toward the heat. Hearing him, she turned. “Everything okay?”
“Is there ever a time that the front door to the upstairs apartment doesn’t close? In the wind, maybe?”
Her green eyes widened. “What? No. Never.”
“It was open tonight and so was the connecting door to the bedrooms,” he said.
“That’s impossible,” she said. “Joe and Anna are very careful to always lock their front door behind them, and they wouldn’t leave the connecting door open either. It was shut earlier. I showed you—” Her mouth opened and cl
osed. “Do you think Spencer tried to come in here?”
“Yes.” One word. No sugarcoating things.
She looked around as if he might be lurking behind the couch. “But why?”
“You tell me.”
“I don’t know,” she said.
Kade waited.
“You think I know anything about that man?” Her tone could have frozen an Eskimo’s toes. “Because I assure you I do not.”
“There’s something here he wants.” Kade ignored that. “A map, maybe?”
She glared at him. “If there is, I’ve never found it.”
“Your father never hinted where he hid his share of the money?”
“I already told you he didn’t. You can ask me a million times, a million ways, and I’m not going to change my tune.” Her eyes snapped green fire.
“Is there anywhere here in the house that he might have stashed it?” Kade glanced up. “In the attic, or maybe the basement?”
“I don’t have either one,” Mesa said. “And I remodeled most of the house, remember?”
He nodded. “Okay. I’m going outside to check on things. Stay in and don’t open the door for anyone but me. Do you have a weapon?”
“My dad’s hunting rifle.” She moved toward her bedroom.
“Can you use it?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Of course.”
“Good. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He headed for the front door where he waited until she returned, carrying the gun. “You set?”
“I am.” She indicated the rifle. “Nobody’s getting in here.”
“That include me?” A corner of his lips lifted a fraction.
“I’ll let you in.” The seriousness in her voice told him she meant more than her house. She meant her life. Touched more than he cared to admit, he pulled on his coat and Stetson.
“I won’t be long.”
Kade headed to the barn first. Mesa’s big team blinked against the light when he flipped on the switch. A little gray pony stuck its nose over the stall door, and Kade couldn’t resist stroking the pony’s soft muzzle. He’d grown up riding horses and missed them, but his job kept him too busy nowadays. He looked in three stalls on the other side of the aisle. Nothing but dust.
In the middle of the aisle stood an old-fashioned sleigh. Moving close, Kade admired the workmanship. Someone had refurbished an old one, and it glowed with loving care. A green plaid blanket lay folded on the front seat, and he touched it. Cold. No one had used it lately.
A large tack room held harness and a saddle, but no hidden con. A haystack revealed two sleepy tabby cats.
He left the barn and trudged toward the road where a sheriff’s deputy had been stationed. Even before he reached the car, Kade could tell something was wrong. He wrenched the door open and cursed. The man lay slumped over the steering wheel, his eyes staring straight ahead.
Kade checked for a pulse but didn’t expect to find one. The cop had been shot at close range with a handgun. Probably the same one taken from the guards transporting Gonzalez and Spencer.
“Damn it,” Kade said again. But hope flared when he found a faint pulse.
He reached for his cell phone and dialed 911. How had the criminal gotten the drop on the lawman? Kade glanced around but saw nothing but whipping snow and trees bending in the face of the storm.
In a matter of minutes, a screaming ambulance, a state patrolman and a sheriff all came through the night, their lights flashing in the dark. EMTs loaded the trooper into the ambulance while Kade filled in the local police.
Then he said, “I’m going to the house to keep an eye on my witness. There’s nothing I can do here, and she might be in danger.”
Moving as fast as he could through the new snow, he wondered how Mesa would take the news of the attempted murder. Not well, he supposed. There was no good way to take it. The only thing that would help her and the deputy would be to find Spencer and make sure he took what he had coming to him.
Mesa still held the rifle when she let Kade inside. The look on his face must have alerted her to something being wrong. “What is it?”
He told her what happened as he took off his coat, then Stetson.
She stared at him, her face pale. “This is beyond horrible.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “It is.”
“Marshal, you’ve got to catch this man. My entire livelihood depends on it.” She sounded near tears.
Not only did her livelihood depend on it, so did her very life. After witnessing the deputy with the gunshot to his head, Kade knew the con would stop at nothing to get whatever it was he had come here for.
Kade took a deep breath. “I’ll do everything I can.”
She nodded and turned away. “I need to put up this gun. My guests probably won’t appreciate me meeting them at the door with a rifle in my hands.”
If it were up to Kade, she’d keep the weapon with her at all times. He’d have her carry it around like an old-fashioned gunslinger might have. Since she probably wouldn’t do so, it was up to him to have her back.
“I’m sleeping with you tonight,” he declared.
CHAPTER FOUR
Mesa stared at him, not sure she’d heard correctly. “Excuse me?”
“I need to sleep next to you,” Kade repeated.
She shook her head. “That’s not necessary. I’ll be fine. You can sleep outside my door—”
“It’s not up for argument,” he said. “Do you have a cot? If not, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“I have an extra cot,” she said, resigned to him sleeping in her bedroom, although she didn’t know how she’d get any sleep with him so close.
“Where is it? I’ll get it,” he said.
“In the garage.” As she approached the door, he stepped in front of her and drew his gun.
“Me first.”
With a startled look, Mesa allowed him to go ahead of her. If he was going to be pulling out his pistol at every turn, her guests were sure to freak out. How could they not? She was as jumpy as a mouse around a hungry cat.
Kade stepped into the garage and stopped when she flipped on the lights. She shivered as a blast of cold air blew over her.
“Did you leave the door open?” he asked.
“What? No.” She stood on tip-toe to look over his shoulder. The garage door was half open, snow blowing in to cover the floor and the backend of her SUV. A shudder rocketed up and down her spine. “Do you think Spencer was in here?”
“It’s a possibility,” he said. “Stand back while I look around.”
She nodded, frozen in fear while he circled the area, opening every door of the SUV and looking under the seats. “Clear,” he said finally. “Where’s the cot?”
Mute, she pointed to the far wall. Spencer had been in here? It was bad enough he’d invaded Joe and Anna’s apartment, but he had been only a door away from her? He’d shown he wouldn’t hesitate to kill. The reality of the situation hit her hard, and she wrapped her arms around her middle.
Kade pulled down the garage door and locked it, then retrieved one of the army cots hanging on a peg. “Let’s get back inside. It’s cold out here.”
Having Kade in her bedroom suddenly sounded a lot better as she led him there. From the hall closet, she retrieved blankets and a pillow. After Kade opened the cot, she spread out the bedding. “Will you be warm enough?”
“Plenty warm.” The quick look that flashed in his eyes suggested he meant from more than the covers and she flushed.
“I need to check the fireplace.” She turned and fled, the marshal right on her heels. What was it about him that was making her all tingly inside? Maybe because he was the first man in ages to not look at her like she had a disease. She’d had nothing to do with her father’s crime, but the men of Black Mountain seemed to think she did and avoided dating her.
After chucking another log on the fire, she sat on the couch and stared into the flames. She’d had friends in high school, dated a little. Lived a normal
life. Then her dad and his accomplices robbed the armored car and she became a pariah to most of the male population. Although sometimes tempted to move, her life was here.
“You okay?” Kade’s question drew her out of her dreary thoughts.
“Fine.”
He sat on the other end of the couch. “You looked a million miles away.”
She smiled ruefully. “Just remembering life before Dad went rogue.”
“What was it like?” He actually sounded interested.
With a shrug, she said, “Normal.”
“Did you grow up here? In Black Mountain?”
“We moved here when I was a freshman. Dad always wanted to be an apple farmer, and when he found this place, he fell in love.” She crossed her legs, Indian style. “I guess I did, too.”
“And your mom?”
Mesa smiled sadly. “We moved here just before my mom died. I think my dad wanted to forget and the hard work was the ticket.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Thanks.” She turned his way. “Where are you from?”
“I live in Denver now, but I grew up in Montana in a small town a lot like Black Mountain.” He stared off, remembering. “Hated every second of it.”
“Why?”
He started. “Because I was the youngest of the six Cahill kids whose dad used them for punching bags. People always looked at us with pity, but no one stood up to the old man.”
“I’m so sorry.” She lifted her hand to touch him, then dropped it.
“Me, too, but it was a long time ago. I left and never looked back. Put myself through college and joined the marshal service right after.”
“Do you stay in contact with your family?”
“Nope.” He glanced her way, and she saw pain flash in his eyes before he masked it. “The rest of them wanted to continue the cycle of abuse, and no amount of talking could get them to change. I finally gave up.”
“Have you ever been married?” She played with the edge of one her mom’s quilts.
“No, and I don’t want to be. I saw what it did to my parents and siblings, and I have no desire to follow in their footsteps.” He sounded harsh, bitter.