by Zoe Dawson
“Good.” She was struck by how tired he looked and how he worked at being upbeat, almost putting on a show. It physically hurt to see him like this. She wanted to help him, but she was just a seventeen-year-old girl with no knowledge of what kind of hell he’d gone through. She wished…wished she was older and that she could have more than these short, frustrating times with him. Everything was just too damn superficial for her.
Harley had really grown up from that gangly teenager he’d been. He towered over her now, and it felt as it always did. Protective. He’d put on muscle. His biceps bulged when he reached for the milk. Okay, some major muscle, which made her feel funny inside. He was just having breakfast, and she studied him in profile: the strong jaw, his rumpled dark hair, the military cut accentuating his features, dark eyebrows and the even darker stubble on his cheeks.
He had this way of putting people at ease with his soft voice and his boy-next-door looks. There was something elusive about the way she felt about him. It wasn’t brotherly. She knew those feelings because she had them for both Trace and Reese. It wasn’t exactly like a friend…there was something else there, something deeper. She gave up thinking about it when he broke into her unsettling thoughts with a question. “How have things been going?”
He turned to her then, and more of that funny feeling made her blink a couple of times. She’d drawn him so many times and never really appreciated how dark blue his eyes were or how heavily lashed. And his mouth was quite beautiful, full and sensual. His smile always made her stomach jump, but he hadn’t smiled at her in such a long time. His mouth was her most favorite feature to draw. She saw some ink just below the shirtsleeve, but it looked foreign. She realized she hadn’t answered him. “I’m hoping to work with Trace in the garage. Trying to find a good time to ask my mom.”
“You always did love cars, and Trace can sure use the help.”
She set her book bag on the counter and her sketchpad slipped out. Her inclination was to hide it, but she screwed up her courage and decided to take Rafferty’s suggestion to find common ground.
“Would you be interested in seeing some of my graphic novel?”
Harley’s eyes lit up. “You’ve been drawing. You always liked doing it when you were younger.”
“I take a lot of art classes in school. I really love it. There’s this place online called MyArt. You can do a profile and upload your stuff. People can comment. I haven’t done it, but was thinking about it.”
He set his plate aside and she pulled out her sketchbook, setting it in front of him.
He started to turn the pages. She had some animal renderings in the front, a lion and a cheetah. “Wow, Anzu. These are really good.”
His praise brought a flush of pride to her cheeks. “You really think so?”
He continued turning the pages past her series of dragons, to the preliminary drawings of her bounty-hunting steampunk characters for her graphic novel series. He paused and his eyes narrowed. “Wait a second…this guy…looks like me.”
“He’s one of my heroes. I hope you don’t mind—”
He shoved the pad away and said, “I’m no damn hero.” His face shut down, his eyes going dark and reproachful. Without a word, he slipped painfully off the counter chair and shuffled out of the room.
Stricken that she had upset him, she sat there in misery. Cadie came over and pulled the sketchbook to her. “Don’t let him bother you, Anzu. He doesn’t feel like a hero because so many of his buddies died.” Her voice was hushed, but it helped to soothe some of the pain from Harley’s rejection of how she saw him. She didn’t care what anyone said, even him. To her he was and would remain a hero.
Cadie paged through, exclaiming over every sketch. “Wow, these guys are hot, these anime-looking guys. Ugh, except for my brother.”
“That’s for a different graphic novel.”
“What’s it about?”
“Superhero demon fighters,” she said, still wondering what had set Harley off about being a hero. Why did everyone think that was so, but not him?
“That sounds really cool.” Cadie looked at her watch. “Oh, shoot. Looks like we missed the bus. I’ll get Trace to drive us.” Anzu nodded, feeling stupid that she had made Harley think about what happened to him instead of connecting with him like Rafferty had explained. She desperately wanted to find that special relationship they used to share before he went to war and she lost him.
“Look,” Cadie said, “I was wondering if you’d be interested in helping us with our homecoming decorations and our senior class float. We’re going to be putting all the decorative touches on it on Saturday for the upcoming parade. How are you at sculpting papier-mâché? Your African animals are amazing, and our float is safari themed. Would you be interested?”
“Work with you on the decorations and your float?”
“Yes, what do you say?”
They made it to the garage. “Can I ask you a question, Cadie?”
“Sure.”
“How come we were never friends?”
Cadie stopped right before she pulled open the door. Her eyes widened and she frowned. “What? We are friends.”
Anzu’s stomach got all weird, like it did when she really wanted someone to like her. What Rafferty said was true. She made herself look even more different, hoping that people would react to her diverse appearance instead of her cultural difference. They’d think she was a freak in a way Anzu wanted them to look at her instead of the uncomfortable, odd way they did before she had adopted her persona. “Not really. Why don’t we hang out?”
“To be honest, you always seemed like you wanted to be left alone.” She pulled open the door, and she broke off their conversation to ask Trace to drive them. He huffed some, but yelled to Jimmy he’d be gone for a few.
As they trailed him to his truck, Cadie picked up the thread of their conversation. “If you remember, I tried to get you to come over a couple of times, but you didn’t.”
She settled in the backseat with Cadie and buckled her seatbelt. It was her turn to be surprised. “You were serious?”
Cadie rolled her eyes and nudged her with her shoulder. “Yes, silly banana.”
Anzu laughed at the comment, and a warm glow started in her belly and radiated outward. Cadie wanted to be friends. She didn’t think Anzu was a freak. “I thought you were just being nice.”
“No. I thought it would be cool to hang out. You’re pretty cool, Anzu. I love the way you look and dress.”
Anzu realized how right Rafferty was. She had orchestrated her own self-fulfilling prophecy. “I’m such a dork. Yes, I would like to help. Thanks, Cadie.”
“That’s great. Hey, Rafferty is going to go to Kalispell with me to find a homecoming dress. You want to go?”
“I have to check with my mom, but yeah. That sounds awesome.” Anzu smiled softly as Trace pulled up to the school and they got out.
—
After settling in a booth, Rafferty said, “I’m sorry I’ve ignored you, Greg but you made me mad.”
“I kept busy.”
“Exactly. You came all the way to this beautiful place, and you’ve holed up in that room. You haven’t even gotten out to see—”
“I didn’t come here for a vacation.”
“Right, I forgot. You don’t take any time off. I swear you’re going to let your life pass you by before you get it.”
“Get what?”
“That life isn’t just about work.”
“We’re not discussing me. I came to make sure you were being taken care of the right way.”
She rolled her eyes and snorted. “Bull. You came to make sure Trace wasn’t going to worm his way into my good graces and my money. I’m not a fool.”
“I don’t think you’re a fool. You’ve had a rough patch,” he said gruffly. “Everyone needs time to get a second wind.”
“That’s right, and it’s my second wind to worry about. Trace isn’t like that at all.”
“How do you know?”
“I know, Greg. I’ve seen him in action and he’s an amazing brother and a good man. If you don’t trust him, and clearly you don’t, trust in my judgment.”
“Maybe he is, but this town is no place for you. You belong in New York with your family. Where your job is. We could be in California by this afternoon. I can arrange for the car to be shipped—”
“No. I’m staying.”
“What do you see in this place, other than the scenery? This town is falling apart. It’s…a lost cause.”
Rafferty stiffened. “No, it’s not. It could turn around.”
“How? This place reminds me of…”
“Of what?”
“Never mind. Susan and your dad are worried about you, too.”
She arched a brow. “I’m well aware that there is concern. But it’s unfounded. Go home, Greg. Get back to your job that’s so important to you.”
He didn’t feel the need to justify her accusation with any kind of answer. He’d worked hard to get where he was, and hard work would keep him there.
“I get it, Raff. You need things to make sense.”
“Yes, and I should have been more aware.”
Her soft tone made him scrub his hands over his face. He didn’t want to hurt her. That’s not why he came here. “Let’s get on a plane and go to California,” he said a little forcefully. “Wrap up what you need to do here on the phone. You’ve already seen the land.”
He’d known Rafferty for a while now, and the resistance to his suggestion was clearly evident in her face.
“Greg, you need to let this go,” she said, and her face was dead serious. She wasn’t going to back down. “I need to stay here. I can’t explain it. I don’t want to leave yet, and I’m not sure about the land.” She kept her voice really low. “It’s not exactly right.” She bit her lip. “I hate the deception.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve always been your dad’s point man, done all his dirty work, did what it took to make every resort a reality.”
“Yes, I know all that. Now I’m feeling a bit…dissatisfied, if I’m being honest with myself. I realized that I’ve never gotten to see a hotel all the way through completion. I was always about the hard sell and the bulldozing over whatever opposition I encountered.”
“So you haven’t been truthful to any of the people you’ve met here. This isn’t about making friends. This was about business. You should keep that first and foremost in your mind. You’re not obligated to tell them anything about your job. It has always hinged on securing the property first.”
“But with Michael Cavanaugh in the mix, it’s added an urgency to my mission.”
“Why don’t you admit you feel terrible about not telling the mechanic? That’s what is getting you all twisted up.”
“He has a name.”
“Right, but that is it. Admit it.”
“I admit it,” she whispered. She closed her eyes and he could see that she was really affected by the secrecy. He reached out and covered her hands. “What about your commitment in California?”
Her eyes popped open. “It will have to wait. I want to make sure I don’t let my father down here. I’m just not sure yet. It would be best if you headed back to New York.”
Her features softened. He cared about her and wanted to make sure she was safe. “I made my own decisions, Greg, about Sean and about staying here. They’re my decisions and my mistakes.” Anger churned no matter what she said. “I’ll be okay. I appreciate the big-brother posturing and your concern. I really do. But, it’s best if you just go home. I have mostly accepted that Sean cheated on me and we got divorced. It’s helping to get away from all the stuff that reminds me of that.”
“Sean is an asshole. I never liked him.” He sat up straighter, going into tough-guy mode. His train of thought got derailed for a second. Greg saw Trace emerge from the front door of the garage. His face obscured by the black hat pulled low over his face like an outlaw. He walked across the two lanes, turning his broad shoulders to get between the pumps. It was clear to him that Trace Black had a purpose. He returned his gaze back to Rafferty.
Then his attention was snagged completely by a woman. A gorgeous redhead who was across the street, talking to the pretty doctor. Her face looked concerned. He wondered if she had green eyes to go with that striking hair. She almost enticed him right out of his seat. Her curvy body was outlined by a simple cream-colored dress with a deep brown sweater, the hem hitting at her slim waist. The garment had a ruffle around the cuffs. Every time she gestured, it played around her wrists.
For a moment, he couldn’t quite draw breath. She then disappeared inside with the doctor. When he turned his head, Trace’s hard gaze never wavered from Greg’s as he moved with a lethal ease. This had to be very temporary for her, because her father was never going to condone his daughter staying in this dying town. Greg wholeheartedly agreed. It was an absurd idea. Not when the world was her playground. No way.
“Rafferty, let’s get out of here. Come to California with me and leave the car. It’ll be fixed when you get back.”
He sighed as he met her gaze. No matter how he tried or what he said, Rafferty had a mind of her own. Nothing short of dynamite was going to budge her, and maybe not even that. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Trace grab the front door handle and pull it open. He noticed how the breakfast patrons in the diner were all watching, too. It hit him that this was somewhere like Cheers. Everyone knew him and they were interested in why he looked so…O.K. Corral, gunslinger ready.
People murmured. People talked. The air was heavy with anticipation.
“I’m not leaving until I’m done with business, Greg,” she said as Trace Black, undaunted by the challenge in Greg’s eyes, stopped in front of their table. He set his hands on his belt, cocking his hip. Confidence oozed off him, but the kind of confidence that told a rival there was no hope, back off. The battle was already won. He smiled amicably, but there was a sharp edge to it.
Greg had dealt with all manner of sharks in New York City. The grinning, backstabbing ones, the ones in expensive suits, the hungry ones who could smell the tiniest drop of blood in the water, the one that looked back at him from his own mirror. But it was rare when he met someone who could so easily dispatch those sharks with the kind of confidence that transcended boardrooms, wealth, and status.
Rafferty’s father with his wealth and reputation was one of those men.
Trace Black did it all on his own.
He saw the immediate change in Rafferty. She softened, her eyes going gentle and warm. But the cowboy didn’t respond to that. He had a chip on his shoulder, and Greg wasn’t sure if it was about him or something else. When Rafferty identified that look, she stiffened and her mouth flattened out when he said, “Ma’am,” in a neutral tone that put a glint in her eye.
“You remember Greg.”
“I do. Hey, Slick. Hadn’t seen you around. Thought maybe you’d stepped off a mountain or something.”
He wished. “No, I haven’t left, cowboy,” Greg said, his tone dry, giving Trace the same challenge he was giving Greg. But he had to give Trace his due. He wasn’t supposed to actually like this guy. “Thanks for your concern.”
“Just being neighborly,” he said, but the easygoing way about him was deceptive, his undertone strained. He turned to Rafferty. “Can I interest you in a trip to Mrs. O’Neal’s? Some of that scenery is spectacular and it’s on the way to Glacier. Give you the lay of the land.”
“We’d love to,” she ground out, and it was Trace’s mouth that tightened this time. He glanced at Greg and scowled. Greg looked at Rafferty and realized that she was more than aware the cowboy wanted to be alone with her. She looked at him, her message clear that he’d better accept, and since he was here for her and anything to go against this guy’s influence on her, he was more than up for it. But, he also couldn’t help noticing that she seemed to be having a lot of fun.
“Let’s go, then,” Trace growled, and
as he turned his back, he flashed Rafferty a co-conspirator smile. She ignored him completely.
Chapter 12
Trace was fit to be tied when he got into his truck and instead of Rafferty sliding across the seat toward him, he had the suit bumping his shoulder, which sent irritation through him in wave after wave. He clasped the steering wheel hard when Rafferty cheerfully said, “This will be fun.”
He gritted his teeth. He’d wanted a moment with her. One moment of seclusion. He couldn’t talk to her in the diner with all those eyes and ears watching and listening. The garage was a swinging door lately with all the women in town trying to stake a claim on him with the new girl showing up, and he couldn’t take her to the house where Harley with his big, not deaf ears could tune in to their conversation.
He loved his family, but he chafed at the lack of privacy they afforded him. In a state known for its wide-open spaces, why couldn’t he get Rafferty alone? How could he woo a woman with everyone watching? And, he wanted to woo her. He was shocked at how much she’d turned his life upside down. After lying with her all night, his body still aching, his hard-on not quite abating. She’d been on the go since they’d had their little talk about an affair. But that word seemed too short-term for what he wanted with her. Something he wasn’t accustomed to wanting with any woman.
Slick had shown up shortly after she’d told him she wasn’t seeing anyone. It was clear she was involved with this smooth jerk, all right.
He bet this guy never had any grease under his fingernails.
He’d be the first to admit he had been loose with the ladies. But it rankled when she’d accused him of juggling women. That wasn’t true. He’d dated a lot before he left Laurel Falls for the marines. Being on the move for all those years made it difficult to keep up a relationship, anyway, not that he really wanted one. He was content to focus on the military, do his duty in whatever war-torn country or mission they sent him. Settling down hadn’t been an option, still wasn’t much of one when he came with three siblings and a beat-up town, battered from a failing economy.