by Rachel Lee
The deputy who arrived was a good-looking man in his fifties. Linc introduced him as Virgil Beauregard, but called him Beau. He walked around the car with a flashlight, shaking his head, and squatted down to examine the tires.
“I’m gonna start sounding like our last sheriff,” he remarked as he straightened. “This county is going to hell in a handbasket. This about that detention thing?”
“Probably,” Linc answered. He sketched the other incidents for Beau, whose frown deepened.
“This seems awfully extreme over a detention,” Beau remarked. “It won’t keep the kid from playing basketball.”
“Nope. Not unless he gets another one.”
“Somebody’s going to get detention in the county jail if they don’t look out.” He pulled out a notebook and scribbled. “Whoever they were, they discovered it’s harder to puncture a tire than you’d think. Unless there’s damage I can’t see, they let the air out of the other three after puncturing one. I’m gonna get some other guys out here and we’ll talk to neighbors. Maybe someone saw something. It was kind of early in the evening to pull a stunt like this. You all go on inside.”
It might be early, but it was also dark, Cassie thought as she led the way inside. Her house also sat in a puddle of shadow between streetlights that weren’t terribly bright to begin with.
“Coffee?” she asked, even as she automatically started to make a pot. Somehow she didn’t feel as if she were going to sleep tonight, caffeine or no caffeine.
“Thanks.” Behind her, she heard the chair scrape as he sat at the table. “You’re being awfully quiet about all this.”
“What should I do? Erupt? That won’t change a thing.”
“No, but I wouldn’t blame you for being furious.”
She started the coffeemaker and joined him, sitting across from him at the table. “Right now I’m frightened. Maybe I’ll get angry later. Or maybe I won’t. There’s nothing that’s been done that can’t be fixed.”
“Except the part about you being frightened.”
All too true, she thought, resting her forehead in her hand and drawing aimless circles with her fingertip on the tabletop. “I just wish I knew how far this is going to go, and for how long.” Unanswerable questions. “Do you think someone might get violent?”
“A week ago I’d have said no way. I don’t even get this. A lousy detention? It’s not like Ben Hastings can’t play because of one detention. If he gets another, or gets suspended, that would be different, but that hasn’t happened. All he has to do is behave.”
She lifted her head, having noted that he hadn’t really answered her question about violence. Her nerves tried to stretch tight, and she drew a deep breath. Violence over a detention? All it would take was one unhinged person. Stop, she commanded herself. Get back to reality.
After a minute or two, she spoke again, trying to remain reasonable. “Maybe someone is afraid I’ll push the bullying issue. That should have got him suspended. He’s now on a knife edge, and apparently that’s got some people worried.” She paused. “One of the teachers must have talked out of school, after our meeting on Monday.”
“Why do you say that?”
“How else would everyone seem to know about James Carney? And certainly, having me as part of an antibullying program.... Oh, that was a mistake. I’m the new broom and it probably looks like I’m sweeping through demanding changes, and likely to make a serious issue of future bullying.”
“Will you?”
She looked up and saw him smiling faintly. “Yes. I was demanding suspension when I walked into Les’s office last week.”
“Good. Maybe it takes a new broom to make us realize we need to change some things. When things become too familiar, it’s easy to overlook them. Plus, there seems to be a lot of ‘kids will be kids’ mentality running around. That needs to change about this issue.”
She nodded. She had heard the coffee finish brewing, so she went to fill a couple of mugs. “I’m sorry I can’t offer much to eat. I don’t keep many snacks around and tomorrow is shopping day. Or was. I guess it’s going to be car day instead.”
“I know the couple who run the auto repair shop. I’ll give them a call in the morning and have it all taken care of.”
She slid into her seat and made a face. “What if they’re on the pro-Hastings side?”
“Whatever side Morris is on, if he’s even on one, he’ll do a good job for you. Besides, I’ll bet most people around here haven’t even picked a side. The championship may be important, but most people probably don’t consider it important enough to try to mistreat you. I can understand some folks wanting to argue with you, but beyond that...” He shook his head. “It’s got to be one person who vandalized your car. The bumps on the dance floor were probably some of Hastings’s friends. And I’m trying to minimize this.” He gave her a rueful expression. “I guess I shouldn’t do that. This is new territory for me.”
The doorbell rang. Linc offered to get it, and a minute later he was bringing Beau into the kitchen.
“Coffee?” Cassie asked automatically.
“No thanks. I’ve had my limit tonight. Okay, neighbors didn’t see anything. Some weren’t home, others were busy watching TV. As far as they knew, the street was quiet. We’re looking around for evidence, but you might as well turn in for the night. Although the floodlights are going to be bright.”
“Can I scrape her rear window off?” Linc asked. “I don’t want that word there come morning.”
Beau hesitated. “I’ll do it when we’ve collected all the information we can.” He turned to Cassie. “I’ll let you know if we find anything.”
“He won’t,” Cassie said after Beau left. “It’s just some vandalism. It hardly requires the sort of investigation a major theft or murder would get.”
“You might be surprised. Beau probably feels like you have the entire county on trial in your mind.”
“Well, I don’t. Not yet. But I may get there if this keeps up.”
“Cassie?”
She looked his way. “Yes?”
“You’ve got a choice. I can camp on your couch tonight or you can come out to my place and use one of the spare bedrooms for the weekend. Either way, I’m not leaving you alone tonight.”
She was startled and grateful all at once. “Are you that worried someone might try to hurt me?”
“Hell, I don’t know anymore. I never would have thought this much would have happened. But what I do know is you’re frightened, with good reason, and that’s enough to make me feel you shouldn’t have to be alone tonight.”
It was all she could do not to gape at him. The turnaround he’d made this week was astonishing. The guy who had tried so hard not to connect with her was now suddenly there, connecting in a myriad of ways. Taking her to his ranch, taking her out to Maude’s, dancing and now this?
Part of her screeched to back away before he did. Because he probably would. He must have had some reason for treating her as if she were contagious for the last couple of months. But now he was in her corner, totally and completely.
A white-knight complex? That promised nothing good, because as soon as he felt she no longer needed protection, he might well pull away again.
But she had to admit, the idea of being alone tonight bothered her. She’d lived by herself most of the time since she left college, and never before had it disturbed her, but looking at the night ahead, she really didn’t want to be on her own after the deputies finished.
“Pack a bag,” he said, making the decision for her. “I’ve got plenty of room. Plan on spending the weekend. I’ll have Morris take care of your car in the morning.”
She wanted to object just because she preferred to make her own decisions, but she realized that would be cutting her nose off to spite her face. She wanted to spend a weekend at his ranch. She liked it out there. She’d get more of a window on him and how he lived.
And she sure didn’t want to stay here. Her home didn’t feel as friendly or safe tonight.
Nor did sleeping on the couch strike her as very comfortable for him, not as tall as he was.
Finally she nodded and went to pack. Escape sounded so good right now, even if only for a weekend.
The drive to the ranch seemed mysterious along isolated and dark country roads. With the sky clouded over, all she could see was the area illuminated by the headlights and a stray snowflake or two. Even the mountains to the west had vanished, the same inky color as everything else.
“It gets so dark out here at night,” she remarked. “I’m used to places where there’s at least some light. I didn’t know a night could look like this.”
“You’ll have to come outside with me if the clouds clear out. You probably never saw just how many stars are up there. The first time I really noticed them was when I’d been away at college. Sometimes I think we don’t look up often enough.”
“Meaning?”
“Maybe we’d realize just how small and unimportant most things are.” He paused. “Once we get to the ranch, if you feel like it you ought to sit outside for a while. Let your eyes adapt. With this cloud cover, I can promise you’ll see a glow from neighboring ranches. It’ll be faint, but you can see it. On a clear night, you can’t.”
“Maybe I’ll try that.” Because sleep was the last thing on her mind.
No, with each passing mile her other concerns and fears faded in an increasingly intense awareness of the man beside her. When they had been dancing, there’d been enough going on and enough people around to keep it in check, even during the slow dance when she had wanted to melt against him.
But there was nothing now to keep her mind in check. Not one thing. She was away from town, away from the person or persons who were so angry with her. Safe. And safety awoke a new kind of danger.
* * *
Linc felt like throwing up his hands in surrender. He’d failed in every single resolution to keep his distance from this woman. A handful—well probably just a handful, if not just one—of bullies had pushed him right toward her like a plow pushing snow. Nor did he see anyone else stepping up for her. He was still annoyed that Les had put the onus on her for this entire situation. With the best of intentions, he was sure. Who would have expected this kind of reaction?
It remained, his own resolve had failed. He’d known from the moment he first saw her that he wanted her. He thought he knew better, and had made up his mind to stay clear.
Now here he was, taking her to his place for the weekend, a woman who had just tonight mentioned canceling her contract. Leaving. Just like Martha. But even worse, Cassie certainly had ample reason to wonder if she should remain here.
God, he couldn’t fathom this. Not at all. A week ago he would have said this was impossible. People might talk among themselves—well, of course they would. They might even argue about it. Hastings’s parents would certainly feel confrontational. But this?
He understood the importance of the championship. The school wasn’t that big, and didn’t have that many students to draw on for its teams. A star came along maybe once every ten or twenty years. In fact, he seemed to remember the last time the school had been in line for a basketball championship had been about twenty years ago. Since then they’d had a track-and-field star, and one football team that had made it to the state playoffs. So yeah, this was a big deal.
Everyone knew scouts had been looking at Hastings. This could be his ticket to college and a very bright future. People were rooting for that kid at least as much as they were rooting for the team. Something bright and wonderful was hovering in the wings, providing a change to the ordinary routine, a few months of pride and something different to talk about.
He could also understand how those who were personally close to Hastings, like his mother and friends, might want to yell at Cassie or even bump her on the dance floor.
But the rat was on a whole different level, as was the vandalism of her car. He’d tried to dismiss that rat to Cassie, even accepting her initial arguments about it, but somewhere deep inside he hadn’t been able to shake the feeling they were dealing with a disturbed mind.
Now he was sure of it. People getting into arguments over the detention, even dismissing the wrongness of bullying the Carney kid, that didn’t rise to this level.
Frankly, he admitted to himself, the idea that someone, just one person, was disturbed enough to pull this stuff had him far more worried than if there’d been a mob in the streets. You could deal with a mob. They were out there where you could see them. But one sicko slinking around in the shadows? That’s what worried him.
He glanced over at Cassie just before he turned onto his road. She was folded up on herself, staring blindly out the window into the night. It was a good thing the road was bumpy and he had to keep both hands on the wheel. Otherwise he might have wrapped her up in his arms, and then all hell would break loose because he wanted her with an ache as deep and wide as the open spaces out here.
He snapped his eyes back to the road. Danger. The night suddenly seemed to be filled with it, and it wasn’t some crazy person he was worrying about. It was himself.
He could do her more harm than some vandal. What she had revealed earlier had told him a lot. He wasn’t the only one in this truck with old wounds, not the only one seriously at risk of taking a misstep.
God knew, he didn’t want to wound her any more. And he didn’t want to go through a replay of the most god-awful months of his life.
She might run. The urge was strong enough that she’d mentioned it, then backed away. All he could do was ensure that neither of them got hurt in any way.
* * *
Cassie accepted Linc’s hand as she climbed out of his truck beside his ranch house. It was colder, as if the land out here had exhaled the day’s remaining warmth faster than the streets in town.
“How’d it get so cold?” she asked, trying to keep this casual. Much as she wanted to fall into his arms, she had decided during the ride that the best thing would be to stay away. He had run cold, then hot, indicating that he had some kind of problem with her. She didn’t need to know what it was to realize she needed to keep her distance.
She focused her attention away from him, and tried to quash memories of being held in his strong arms. Tried not to draw a mental picture of those narrow hips and wide shoulders. Tried not to remember the remarkable compliment he had paid her, or the way his blue eyes seemed to heat up when they gazed at her.
The night was suddenly upon them, and although it was cold her internal heat was rising. She couldn’t seem to draw enough of the icy air into her lungs. Don’t look at him. Don’t encourage whatever it was that seemed to be filling the short distance between them, that seemed to tug her toward him the way gravity held her to the ground.
“Let’s go inside,” he said. “I’ll make you a hot drink. Then if you want, we can sit out back for a while.”
“I’d like that.” That sounded safe enough. Sitting outside all bundled up would surely freeze the hot waves of desire that had started to pulse within her. Who could think about sex in the cold, while wearing almost enough clothing for an Eskimo?
Evidently she could, she thought with amusement as she followed him inside.
He left her bag inside the door. “I’ll let you pick a room later,” he said. Then he led the way to the kitchen, where he made a couple of mugs of instant cocoa.
Outside the temperature seemed to have fallen a bit more. Maybe, Cassie thought, it was just a contrast to being indoors.
He had a wide porch and a number of padded patio chairs that were comfortable. As soon as she settled into one with her mug, he disappeared into the house. He returned a few minutes later with a blanket he tucked around her legs.
“Let me know if you start to feel too cold. I know you just came from a warmer climate.”
“Considerably warmer,” she admitted. “Occasionally we got down into the low thirties or even twenties, but usually not often enough to get used to it.”
“I’d miss the sea
sons,” he said as he settled into his own chair. He put one booted foot up on the railing and looked out into the dark, mug in one large hand.
“I know I did. I wanted to get back to them.”
“You hated it?”
“Not really. Not at all. It’s just that when I was young, before my mom decided to follow this guy to Florida, I always loved the change of season. Especially autumn. Don’t ask me why, but I missed autumn most of all. Down there you usually sense it only by the change in the quality of light. That happens long before it cools down and the leaves change.”
“How’d your mom’s guy work out?”
“Not too well,” she admitted. “It came apart after about six months.”
“How did you feel about that?”
“Relieved. He wasn’t nasty to me or anything. It wasn’t like the horror stories you hear. I just didn’t especially like him. He never really tried to like me. I guess I felt tolerated.”
He was silent for a while. She realized that he was right, she could see the faint, distant glow from other ranches. She wondered if it would disappear later, or if they had security lighting.
She heard some soft sounds from the direction of the meadows, but they didn’t strike her as disturbed. “Do the animals stay awake all night?”
“No, but they don’t sleep like we do. They move around occasionally, and make a little noise.”
“It’s beautiful out here.”
“I think so,” he agreed. “Cassie?”
“What?”
“Did you always feel like an outsider, even at home?”
She looked down at the mug she could barely see and felt her chest tighten. “I guess so,” she said after a moment. “Doesn’t nearly everyone?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why did you ask?”
“Thinking about a little girl moving to Florida so that her mother could follow a man she hardly knew. You’ve changed jobs a lot, too, haven’t you?”
“Three different school districts in eight years isn’t a lot.”
“Maybe not. What are you looking for?”
“I told you. A place like this. Well, a place like what I thought this was.”