by Marlow Kelly
“That bad, huh?”
“Yes.” Talking about everyday things helped ground him. He felt as if his world had become a tangled mess, and he needed a chance to sort through the problems and catch up.
“Do you have a chair you can put in the shower stall in the bunkhouse?”
Tim could’ve slapped his head. Michael needed the cane to stand up. He had to use his good arm to support the cane, which meant he was essentially immobilized unless he was seated. “You need to stay in the main house. It’s cleaner, more comfortable, and I’ll be able to keep an eye on you.”
“It’s only a matter of time before these guys find me. They have access to the FBI’s files. It’s known we’re friends. Plus, Finn said you have your own legal worries at the moment.”
Tim refused to talk about Ben’s death, the residents of Hopefalls, or Dana Hayden and her belief that he was capable of murder. “You can see the dust plume from the road for twenty minutes before anyone reaches the house.”
Michael shook his head. “This place is not a good idea. If someone does come, they can search the house and find nothing. That’ll give me time to get away and you can deny I was ever here.”
“I’d kill them before I’d let them take you. And in the shape you’re in, you wouldn’t get far.”
“I forgot how scrappy you are.”
Tim smiled and scratched his cheek. “How could you forget? We were in enough fights together back in the day.” Meaning when they’d been homeless on the streets of Granite City. Their time living rough, watching each other’s backs, had cemented their bond.
They lapsed into silence as Tim laid the cooked bacon on a paper towel to drain the excess grease, placed the eggs on two plates, and then brought them to the table.
“Don’t you have a tent or something? I could sleep up in the mountains.” Michael took a bite of the crispy bacon.
“No, and even if I did have one, I wouldn’t let you camp out. Two days ago, I ran into a grizzly with cubs. You’re in no condition to save yourself against a human, let alone a bear.”
“You wouldn’t let me? I’m a grown man. You don’t get to ‘let’ me do anything.”
“Then you need to start acting like a grown man. You set yourself back going to Salt Lake City with Finn. You’re hurt, and you’re in trouble. One of us will find a place for you to hide. In the meantime, concentrate on getting better. You need to be able to hold a weapon so you can protect yourself. That has to be your priority. After breakfast, I’ll put a chair in the shower and move your stuff into this house. Then we’ll go through the gun cabinet and pick a weapon for you.”
Michael’s gaze held his for a few moments. Then his dark, perceptive eyes grew tired. He didn’t have the energy to argue.
“Give yourself a couple of days to get your strength. Then if you want to take off, I won’t stop you.” Tim finished his breakfast and placed his plate in the dishwasher. A brown-gray plume caught his eye. He grabbed the binoculars that sat on the kitchen counter near the window and trained them on the newcomer. “Damn.”
“Who is it?”
“A policewoman from Hopefalls.”
“What do you think she wants?”
“I told her I’d meet her at the diner at noon. She’s over an hour early.”
“Do you think she’s come to arrest you?”
“No, Wind Valley Ranch is out of her jurisdiction. But if there’s a problem, can you call David and ask him to send his fancy lawyer?”
“You got it.”
“It’s better if she doesn’t see you. I’ll keep her outside.”
“If you seem like you want to get rid of her, she’ll be suspicious. Relax and have a coffee with her.”
“Okay, I will. The road is slow going. We have about twenty minutes before she reaches the house, so I’ll get you setup.” He grabbed his key ring and worked a small key free. “Here’s the key to the gun cabinet. Take a look and see if one catches your eye. Do you need anything else?”
“Just the password for your Wi-Fi.”
“I don’t have Internet or cell service.”
“What?” Michael’s eyes widened.
Tim shrugged. “I used to have satellite TV and Internet, but I had to cancel them.”
“You have a smartphone.” He pointed to the device that lay on the table.
“Yeah, but it only works in town. There are no towers out here. There’s a landline.” An old yellow phone sat on the kitchen wall near the door. Next to the phone, there was a base station radio and a walkie-talkie he’d been meaning to sell. It was an older model but had a range of thirty-five miles. He really needed to get his act together and put an ad online. He dismissed the thought and focused on Michael, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the protective way he curled to one side in his seat. His friend was in pain. “Will you be okay out here on your own?”
“Sure. I was going to look some stuff up on the computer, but I guess I’ll just shower and practice my shooting.” Meaning he’d been planning to do some cyber investigating.
Tim headed for the door. He wanted to fetch Michael’s belongings from the bunkhouse before Dana got any closer.
“Finn said you like her.” Michael’s words stopped him as he reached for the handle.
Then he turned the knob and kept on walking, without comment. It didn’t matter that her pale gray eyes and long toned body had haunted his dreams. His attraction to Dana Hayden would never amount to anything.
****
Dana steered her old Chevy along the pothole-ridden, bumpy dirt track that led to Wind Valley Ranch. She’d called Booley this morning and given her report. He’d been predictably rude, saying he should have sent Xavier instead of her. He seemed to think Officer Robinson would have succeeded in finding proof of Tim’s guilt where she’d failed. She’d ended the conversation as quickly as possible since the strain of holding her tongue had made her clench her teeth, and now her jaw hurt.
Once Logan was done with high school, he would move on to some kind of post-secondary education and she could get another job, one where she didn’t work for a woman-hating jerk. Maybe she should think about getting out of police work. Her gut twisted at the thought. The trouble was she loved her job; being a policewoman was part of her identity. But a police officer who couldn’t fire her weapon was useless. Perhaps she could get a desk job somewhere or teach self-defense courses to women. She liked that idea. There were a lot of women who had no idea how to make themselves safe. That was worthwhile work, but it wasn’t the same as being a cop.
She and Logan had shared a Denver omelet for breakfast. She didn’t consider herself much of a cook, but she made spectacular omelets. Logan was planning on spending the day painting the walls of his bedroom white. Then he was going to cover them with a mural. She didn’t care what his room looked like. Her son was occupied and interested so, as far as she was concerned, it was a win-win situation. Later, he was going over to Shelly’s again to do more baking, which seemed like a strange thing for a teen to be into, but who was she to judge?
Sooner or later, Logan had to be responsible for his own life. Learning to make good decisions was part of being an adult. At least that was what the Spokane Police Department therapist had said in their sessions after Logan’s arrest. She needed to be able to trust her son, and he needed a chance to earn that trust.
She pushed away her worries about Logan and focused on the bumpy driveway. It was a glorious spring morning. Sun slanted from the east. The long shadow cast by Molly’s Mountain fell across the land. Open fields that occupied the central part of the valley were covered in dry hay, which gave the ground a yellow glow. The hay was from last year. All the other ranchers and farmers in the area were plowing their fields, making way for a new crop, but on the Morgan’s ranch, last year’s harvest had decayed in the field without being reaped.
The homestead came into view. It was a collection of six buildings surrounded by a circle of trees. Three of the structures were log c
abins, the largest of which had a wraparound porch. Her breath caught at the view of the rustic house engulfed by the wild valley with the snowcapped mountains in the distance.
She reached the house, climbed out of the truck, and was hit with the scent of pine, dirt, and hay. When she inhaled, her talk with Booley and her concerns about Logan drifted away with the mountain breeze.
Tim opened the door, carrying two steaming coffees. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
She nodded, accepting the mug from him. “Do you have any milk or cream?” Contrary to how television portrays cops, she seldom drank her coffee black. She didn’t take sugar either, just a double helping of cream.
He shook his head, still looking at the scenery. “Sorry, I used all the milk to treat the burns I got from the bear spray, and I didn’t have time yesterday to pick up more. I had this pretty policewoman stalking me all day.”
“That’s terrible. Maybe you should give me her name so I can investigate.” Suddenly conscious of her appearance, she tugged at her too-short bangs and tucked the longer pieces behind her ears.
He gave a deep, melodic chuckle that made her all too aware that he was so close they were almost touching, and yet she didn’t pull away. This was the first time she’d heard him laugh. He smiled all the time, but somehow that didn’t quite seem real. It was a façade he presented to the world.
“It must be hard for you to give this up.” She followed his gaze to the mountain range in the west, not wanting to look at his disheveled hair or the dark stubble on his chin. Or think about the fact that she was trailing the man who’d faced down a bear in order to save her son.
He was silent for a long moment, so long she wondered if he would just turn and head back into the house. But he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the porch. She could’ve easily pulled away but didn’t. They walked along the wraparound deck until they reached two wooden Adirondack chairs and a coffee table. The furniture looked like it needed a coat of varnish. In fact, the whole place was in need of painting. She imagined the upkeep on a property this size was a round-the-clock job. And a man who worked full time to pay for his father’s care wouldn’t be able to maintain it. Tim sat in one of the chairs.
“How does your dad feel about you selling the place?” She dropped down into the seat next to him.
“He doesn’t even know it’s happening. He doesn’t understand. I was in Afghanistan when he first got ill. I didn’t know. He was fine when I attended Mom’s funeral. Then I went back overseas for ten months. Mrs. Anderson, my second-grade teacher, got in touch to tell me Dad was sick and I had to come back and check on him.”
They were facing the valley now with Molly’s Mountain to her left. The yellow fields and a wide swath of forest stretched between the two properties, the distance so great it would be impossible for Tim to see or hear the perpetrator who had killed Ben. “What happened when you got back?”
“Dad didn’t recognize me.” Tim’s feet were bare, and like the rest of him, they were long, slim, and well-shaped.
A hum of appreciation lodged in her throat. Good God. She was ogling his feet. She turned her gaze back to the view and concentrated on their conversation. “So, in less than a year, your father’s health deteriorated?”
He nodded. “Getting Dad the care he needs, and paying for that care, have become my top priorities. I always had mixed feelings about living here. I love the land but hate Hopefalls. I sold the cattle and equipment, put the money in savings, and used some of it to pay for a caregiver to come in while I was at work.”
“And then?”
“Angela, that was Dad’s nurse, called to say she’d quit. Dad had wandered off. People with Alzheimer’s do that. Anyway, when she tried to get him to come back to the house, he hit her.”
Dana put a hand to her mouth. “He hit her?”
“I feel so guilty about putting Dad in the care home, but I have to work, and I couldn’t look after him twenty-four hours a day.”
“You put him in the best one you could find. That’s all anyone can ask.” She placed her hand over his, and then realized what she was doing and pulled it away.
The heartache of the man sitting next to her was palpable. Alzheimer’s was a cruel disease that robbed its victims of not only their ability to reason, but also took the essence of who they were. They no longer recognized people they’d known their whole lives.
Tim didn’t look at her. He was lost in his own thoughts. “Shady Pines is a good place. The grounds are spacious and beautiful, and the staff are excellent. They can give him the care he needs.”
“But it’s expensive.” She was stating a fact. The cost of his father’s care was the reason behind his alleged motive for killing Ben.
Tim nodded. “The money from the sale of the assets is almost gone.”
“And now you have to sell the ranch?”
He turned and stared at Molly’s Mountain, his eyes squinting against the bright morning light. “You know, when I was a kid, Dad and I used to sit out here on cold, dark evenings. He’d tell me stories about the Wild Bunch, Kid Curry, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and how they used the valley as a hideout. Legend has it they buried their gold here but were killed before they could come back to collect it. Dad said on a windy night you could still hear them thundering down the valley. I don’t know that any of it’s true, but it’s fun to think about.
“You must miss him.”
“Yeah, and my mom. All I ever wanted to be was a rancher like my Dad. I was born here, and I figured I’d live here until I died. When I was on the street, I used to walk to the edge of the city, stare at the mountains, and imagine I was standing on this spot.”
Her stomach knotted at the thought of him at fifteen, homesick and alone in Granite City. His poor mother, she must’ve been so worried. Dana pictured Logan lost and starving, begging for food. A lump formed in her throat. One way or another, Tim Morgan had paid for his crime in fear, hunger, and hardship. “Why did you join up? Why didn’t you come back here?”
He stood and walked to the railing. “How could I when everyone in Hopefalls thinks I caused Alice’s death? This”—he swept his free hand in a wide arc—“is temporary. It can never be a real home.” Once again, he’d been careful in his choice of words and hadn’t admitted to causing the accident.
“It was a long time ago.” Just two days before, she’d painstakingly preserved the evidence and protected the scene of Ben North’s homicide, hoping he wouldn’t escape justice again. And here she was all but forgiving him.
“People have long memories. My friends were joining up, and it was a chance for me to prove myself. To shake the idea that I was a worthless kid who got into trouble and begged for food. I needed to be one of the good guys, and the army offered me a way to regain my self-respect.” He threw the dregs of his coffee over the railing and then took her cup. “Shall we go?”
She sat in her truck as he carried the empty mugs into the kitchen. She enjoyed watching him move and appreciated his long legs, his firm, tight butt and long hard body. She salivated at the thought of feeling his arms wrapped around her, encircling her in his warmth. She sighed, turning away to stare at the overgrown fields.
Her attraction to Tim was dangerous. She shouldn’t let her guard down…but she already had. She no longer thought of him as Morgan, but as Tim. And she couldn’t imagine him as a lowlife. There was nothing in his record or his life to suggest he was anything other than what he said—a hard-working ex-Ranger who was caring for his sick father. Somehow a barrier had been broken, one she had erected to protect herself from him. She couldn’t say he had demolished it. He hadn’t done anything other than be himself. It was her. She simply couldn’t stay mad at a man who seemed decent and honest. Of course, liking Tim wasn’t the problem. It was her physical attraction to him. How the hell was she going to keep him at arm’s length when she couldn’t stop wondering how he would taste when she kissed him?
Chapter Sixteen
Dana parke
d in front of the diner and rolled down her window as Tim got out of his truck and strode to her door.
She gave a low whistle, pointed in Eva’s direction, and then turned to Tim. “She’s dressed to kill.”
Eva sat on the steps of the diner, waiting. She’d straightened her long sandy-colored hair. Her eyes were circled in black eyeliner and her lips were painted a garish shade of red. She wore a skintight, low-cut, see-through blouse, which revealed a lacy black pushup bra. Hookers showed less cleavage. Her too-tight blue jeans were tucked into a pair of tan cowboy boots. It was hard to believe she’d lost her husband just a few months ago.
Tim frowned. “It would be really helpful if you would ride with me. I tried to tell her she’s not my type. I should have been firmer.”
“I thought you were introducing her to one of your friends for a bit of fun.”
Tim shook his head, his eyes widening. “I did not say that.”
She nodded. “That’s the impression I got.”
“Damn it all to hell.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I screwed up. You distracted me, and I screwed up. Promise me you won’t leave me alone with her.”
So she had got to him. He just hadn’t messed up in the way she’d expected. Dana smiled. “Are you scared?”
“Of course, I’m scared. She’s Booley’s niece.”
“Where are you taking her?”
“I thought it might help her to chat with a friend of mine—a priest.”
“Are you trying to tell me that your circle of friends consists of an FBI agent and a priest?”
He smiled, and her stomach did a little flip.
“Am I ruining your preconceived ideas?” Tim waggled his eyebrows.
Dana laughed and then stifled her reaction when she spotted Zoe Harris and Mrs. Anderson walking toward them. Personally, she didn’t mind Zoe. The mayor’s wife was always pleasant and had baked cookies to welcome her when she’d first arrived. Mrs. Anderson was another story. The retired schoolteacher never smiled at her. The most she ever got in greeting was a mere nod of the head. That coupled with Victoria’s stern expression gave Dana the feeling she’d been judged and found wanting.