by Barb Han
“It’s good seeing you again, Dade,” she said, finally looking up and realizing what a mistake that was. Because he was looking, too. And the way he was looking made her body ache in a way it hadn’t in far too long.
“You, too, Carrie.”
Neither made a move to leave right away. Another mistake. They were racking up. Because she’d learned early on that feelings could trick her. All she was experiencing was a bout of nostalgia. She’d taken psychology as an elective to help sort out her own emotions. Dade represented the past—a time before life became confusing and people who were supposed to take care of her had hurt her. A time before the group home leader had snapped and taken out his frustrations on her and a handful of other kids. A time before she’d been placed in a foster home with a real monster and had a social worker who seemed content to look the other way in order to check a box on a file—placed.
“I better get home to Coco.”
“The Sharp Eagle?” The corner of his mouth lifted in a grin that tugged at her heart.
She laughed despite all the memories churning through her mind.
“Yep.” She returned the smile. “Like I said, stop by some time.”
Neither seemed ready to leave, but it was time, so she made the first move, digging her keys out of her purse. She palmed the pepper spray.
“Keep that ready to go just in case.” Dade’s eyes went straight to the palm-sized black canister in the leather casing as he stepped aside to allow passage.
“I will.” She took the first step toward her vehicle, grateful the rose had been removed from the driver’s-side door handle. Brett’s timing couldn’t be worse. But then, timing wasn’t his only issue.
“Hold on to it even when you walk the dog. Madelyn had a restraining order against her ex, and it didn’t stop him from coming after her.” His warning sent a cold chill down her back. He was right. She’d read about the whole ordeal in the news and, even though she thought she knew Brett, Dade’s half sister must’ve felt the same about her boyfriend.
Dade fished a card out of his wallet and handed it to her. “The sheriff’s office might be too busy to handle this properly, but if this guy shows up again or your ex doesn’t take the hint and you need a hand, give me a call. My personal cell’s on there.”
“Thank you.” She dropped his card in her purse. Nash should be gone by morning. She hoped Brett would leave things alone. Experience had taught her that he didn’t give up so easily. But she could handle him. Right?
* * *
AS DADE WATCHED Carrie drive away, regret filled his chest. Since that was as productive as drinking well water next to a nuclear facility, he started the engine of his truck and navigated out of the alley.
Dade spent the half-hour ride home lost in his thoughts, one of which hadn’t dawned on him until later. Being close to Carrie might bring unwanted media attention to her and dredge up her past. People talked. He’d never been truly sure what had happened to her in the years she was away from Cattle Barge, but she’d returned a different person. The chatty and sweet girl from their youth had seemed...he didn’t know...lost?
Adding to his sharp mood was the simple fact that his own life was a mess. First, there’d been an unexpected breakup with his girlfriend, followed by the Mav’s murder and everything that had happened to the family since. Going back to the ranch didn’t hold a hell of a lot of appeal lately, but he had nowhere else to be and was needed at home. He was restless, though. Working the land was the only activity that had ever given him a sense of peace. The Mav had been right about one thing—hard work made for clear focus right up until Dade came in from the range. Honestly, focus had been hard to come by lately, but he figured he could get it back if he kept moving forward. Was it the fact that someone had murdered his father right under their noses in such a violent fashion and on the land they all loved so much that kept him on edge?
Going to bed would be useless. Sleep was as close as Helsinki to Houston. He made a beeline for the kitchen after parking in his usual spot. The light was on, and six weeks ago that might’ve seemed odd. Nothing surprised him now.
“Did you just pull in?” Ella seemed happy for the first time, but then Dade’s older sister had gotten the closure she needed from the past. She’d also met a man she truly seemed in love with, and while Dade was happy for his sister, seeing her in that state of bliss reminded him just how far away he was from it. He wouldn’t begrudge her, though. She deserved every bit of it.
“Got sidetracked on my way to pick up the bronze.” Dade realized that he’d never made it over to the mayor’s office.
“I figured as much after Mayor Bentley called. Dalton volunteered to go instead.” She sat at the long wooden table behind a bowl of ice cream. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He’d thank his twin brother when he saw him in the morning. Days on the ranch began at 4:00 a.m., so that wouldn’t be long. Dade went for the coffeepot, figuring a caffeine boost would help him think clearly. After seeing Carrie again, his mind was going to a place he knew better than to let it: an inappropriate attraction that had him remembering the lines of her heart-shaped face framed by inky-black hair, her creamy skin, smooth aside from that little scar to the left side of her full lips. When she smiled, she had one dimple on her left cheek, and part of him wanted to see that again.
“We’re out of beans in the kitchen.” Ella nodded toward the pantry.
“Since when is this house out of anything?” There’d been someone around to stock the pantry and make sure meals were cooked and the kids put to bed for as long as Dade could remember. None of the good people providing those tasks had been his parents.
“I’m sure there’s more somewhere. May’s been overworked, and I thought she should take it easy. I asked her to take a couple of days for herself.”
Dade almost laughed out loud. May, take a break? She wasn’t the lounging type. “How’d that go over?”
Ella looked at him. “It’ll be worse if she realizes we wanted something and had to do without.”
“Why would we do that? I’ll check dry storage to see if we have a can of coffee hiding in there. She’ll never know. Besides, we’re all grown. We can do for ourselves.” She would take it to heart. Feel like she’d let them down in some way. It was just coffee, but May wouldn’t see it that way. May had always done everything for them when they were kids. May was a saint.
“Where were you tonight?” Ella had taken to prying in everyone’s business since their father’s murder and the subsequent crimes against the family.
“There was a disturbance in town and I got distracted.” He searched for pain relievers to stem the dull headache focused in the center of his forehead.
“What happened? Are you okay?” There was so much worry in her voice now. The reason was understandable, but Dade could take care of himself.
“Nothing that involved me directly. I helped a friend,” he conceded, taking a seat across from Ella.
“You’re sure about that?” Fear widened her eyes.
“Certain. Carrie Palmer had a run-in with a festival worker. I took her to file a complaint.” The world would know tomorrow anyway. There was no sense in hiding it.
Ella glanced at her bowl of ice cream and started to speak.
“Have you heard from Cadence?” He changed the subject, not yet ready to discuss Carrie with his sister. Hell, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling toward her other than a strong urge to protect her.
“She’s still down with the flu and, honestly, with everything going on around here, it’s probably best she’s out of town until the hysteria dies down.” Ella pushed around the ball of ice cream in her bowl.
“What she did to Madelyn was inexcusable—”
Ella was already nodding in agreement. Leaving a threatening message to try to force Madelyn out of town was a low blow. “Our baby sister messed up. I’m jus
t grateful Madelyn has found it in her heart to forgive Cadence. Their relationship still has a long way to go but they’re making progress, talking almost every day.”
“I’m guessing their reconciliation has a lot to do with you,” Dade pointed out.
“With everything this family has been through we need each other now more than ever.” Ella’s heart was always big and her judgment sound.
“There’s no rush for me but Ed can’t read Dad’s will until we’re all present. He also said the date’s been set,” Dade informed. Ed Staples was the family’s lawyer and longtime friend of their father. Some people might say that Ed was Maverick Mike’s only true confidant.
“Ed told me, too.” Ella rolled the spoon through her ice cream.
He eyed the label. It came from Carrie’s Cold Treats.
“Ed said there was some kind of stipulation.” Dade didn’t care a hill of beans about what he stood to inherit. The only reason he cared about the will was because there might be a revelation in it that could blow open the investigation and bring their father’s killer to justice. It sat hard on his chest that his father had been murdered on the ranch, that someone had had access and had wanted to prove they could do whatever they wanted at Maverick Mike’s home. What did that say about security? About Dade and his brother? Early on, folks had speculated that Andrea Caldwell, the Mav’s girlfriend, had shot him in his sleep. Dade hadn’t taken the rumor seriously. Andrea was a sweet person. She might not be able to take care of herself but she wouldn’t hurt a fly. It wasn’t her nature.
“Wish I knew what he was talking about,” Ella admitted. “Do you?”
“Guess we’ll learn together.” Dade filled a water glass and drained it. “When does Holden get here?”
“A couple of days,” she said, her eyes getting a little spark in them when she referred to her fiancé. “He’s closing out his accounts in Virginia so he can move here. I wanted to go with him, but he thought I’d feel better if I stayed on the ranch while everything’s been so crazy.”
“He’s probably right,” Dade agreed.
Ella stood, moved to the sink and rinsed out her bowl before placing it in the dishwasher. “Guess my eyes were bigger than my stomach.”
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Dade said. By the time he returned to the kitchen with a can of ground coffee, Ella had gone to bed. It was late. A shower and the idea of sleep won out over making coffee.
After climbing in bed, Dade drew the covers up. His mind drifted to the last gift from his father, a fishing rod. Not just any fishing rod, but the one he’d wanted as a kid. There’d been a note, too. One that Dade had balled up and tossed into a drawer without reading. He’d been filled with anger and figured one small gesture couldn’t wipe away the abuse Dade had suffered at his father’s hands. Now he’d never have another chance to make things right with the old man. To add insult to injury, the note had gone missing.
The sheriff was no closer to making an arrest now than he’d been a week ago. There were too many leads and too many distractions between the media and others who’d descended on Cattle Barge. Claims of paternity or debts owed from Maverick Mike were through the roof. Only one paternity claim had panned out so far, and Madelyn Kensington had arrived at the ranch seeming even less thrilled with the news than the Butlers had been.
Rather than chew on those unproductive nuggets, Dade flipped onto his back. He’d been in bed long enough for his eyes to adjust to the dark, so he stared up at the ceiling, at the texture he’d heard his sisters describe as orange peel. The pattern stretched from wall to wall.
Out of nowhere, Dade felt hemmed in. He used to love having his own wing in the main house, but now it felt like a cage.
Tonight must be the night for fruitless thoughts, because his mind turned to Carrie and how good it had been to see her again. He told himself it was her safety that had him wanting to check on her in the morning when he had work to do.
What time did her sweet shop open? He picked up his phone on the nightstand and glanced at the time. One o’clock in the morning. Work started in three hours. He thumbed the internet icon and then entered the name of her shop.
She opened at eleven o’clock, which meant she probably arrived by seven or eight to prep for the day.
The festival worker should be long gone by then. Shouldn’t he? It was probably the brush with death two of his sisters had had recently that had Dade’s mind twisting over his thoughts, concerned about Carrie.
Because what if Nash had left that rose? What did that say about the man’s intentions?
Chapter Four
“Coco, come here, girl.” Carrie glanced around the backyard of her one-story bungalow, looking for her dog. Normally, she liked living in a suburb on the edge of the small town with its cul-de-sacs and third-of-an-acre lots. Tonight, she looked out into the blackness with apprehension. Was it always this dark outside on a weeknight? All the homes on her street were blacked out, and no one seemed to see the need to waste electricity by leaving a porch light on.
This had never bothered her before, but Nash had caught her off guard, setting her nerves even more on edge after dealing with Brett. Where was her dog?
Carrie stepped onto the back porch and called for Coco again. Her dog had run around the side of the house, which wasn’t unusual, but Carrie didn’t like it tonight. Out of habit, she’d dropped her keys next to the front door, along with her pepper spray. All kinds of worrisome thoughts plagued her. Technically, the festival wouldn’t pack up and leave until morning. Could Nash have figured out where she lived? He might’ve followed her home one evening. No. She would’ve known. She would’ve noticed an unfamiliar car or truck.
“Coco,” she repeated, louder this time. And then she listened for the sounds of the dog tags clanking together—the proof of rabies vaccination always jingled when she moved. All she could hear were cicadas and crickets, which sounded haunting tonight. Keep thinking along those lines and she’d really psych herself out. Okay, it was too late for that. It’ll be fine, Carrie.
Glancing into the shadows, a prickly sensation that someone was watching overtook her. This time she studied the dark corners of her yard. The glow from the back porch lit up barely more than her deck. Again, she asked herself if Nash could’ve followed her home. No way. She and Dade had talked for a long time after the encounter and they’d gone to the sheriff’s office. Her nerves were fried, and what she really needed was a cool shower, a good meal and sleep. It was time to put this awful day to rest and wake with a clean slate tomorrow.
The sound of a truck engine hummed from down the street. As the noise moved toward her, she whistled for her dog and made kissing noises. Those usually did the trick. Not tonight.
Carrie took a couple of steps back, placing her hand on the doorknob leading into the kitchen. As soon as Coco darted onto the deck, Carrie would be ready to usher her baby inside and quickly lock the door behind them. Why did her dog always exert her independence at the worst possible times?
Gravel crunched underneath tires as her neighbor’s truck engine roared and then died. The bungalow next door had been rented six months ago by a single guy who seemed intent on keeping to himself. After several fruitless attempts to stop by and introduce herself, Carrie wondered if he wanted to be on friendly terms at all. Tonight probably wasn’t the best time for a conversation and since he’d made no effort so far, she figured he might be a jerk anyway. He kept odd hours, even to her, and she hadn’t seen him outside since he moved in. He was gone for days at a time with no indication of where he’d been. Lights in his house were on at odd times. Carrie had noticed them when Coco was sick and needed to go outside during the night. He never had company—or at least he didn’t while she’d been home. She could admit that wasn’t often since she’d opened the sweet shop last year.
“Your trash keeps blowing into my yard,” an irritated male voice snapped. Th
at was a nice introduction. He must’ve seen her in the porch light. She sure as heck couldn’t see him, and the thought sent an icy chill racing up her arms.
“Sorry. It’s the raccoons. I work long hours at—”
The truck’s door slammed a little too loudly, causing her to jump. Take it easy, buddy.
“Lock it up.” His voice was almost a growl.
If he was going to be this much of a jerk, she saw no point in introducing herself or trying to make nice, so she didn’t respond at all.
A few seconds later, she saw a light flip on inside his house. Guess he’d made his neighborly intentions clear. She blew out a breath. This had been one red-letter day for sure.
Coco’s tags jingled, and relief washed over Carrie as her little dog bolted into view, barking. Instead of hopping onto the deck, Coco diverted right and ran in a circle as fast as she could, disappearing into the shadows only to dart back inside the light. Her barks intensified with each sighting. Her reaction came a little too late to have an impact on Jerk Face. Coco was a sweetheart, but her neighbor didn’t have to know that, and she could sound menacing when she really wanted to. She looked more like a shar-pei than a beagle, which made her a little more threatening.
Even though Carrie was starving, she stood on the porch a few more minutes, almost daring her neighbor to come out and say something again about the noise. Her dog had been inside since lunch. She needed a little freedom, and Carrie was finding her bravado again after the encounter with Jerk Face. She didn’t have enough audacity to walk out front and check the mail, she thought, realizing she’d forgotten to do that on the drive in. It could wait. No way was she walking out the front door in the dark and to the middle of the cul-de-sac, where all the mailboxes were clumped together to make it easier on the mail carrier.
There were four houses to each cul-de-sac in this neighborhood and hers sat directly across from the Hardin place. Marla Hardin was Samuel’s aging aunt and he lived there with her.