Rugged and Restless

by Saylor Bliss

  “Um, yeah, go ahead.” I stooped and pretended interest in the shelf of beer mugs beneath the bar, hoping Sissy wouldn’t notice her reluctance to be alone.

  Apparently my act fell short. “What’s up with you, being all edgy? And what’s with the granny getup? It’s a bazillion degrees outside and not much cooler in here. At least unbutton the sweater.”

  I repositioned a few of the beer mugs before looking up. “I must be coming down with something. Go on to the bank, Sissy. I’ll cover.”

  After a long stare filled with doubt, Sissy shook her head and left through the kitchen doors. Alone in the bar, I tried to work out my agitation by fussing with a pyramid of beer mugs. After my third attempt to line them up evenly, I impatiently slid them all to the side. The sound of clinking glass was a welcome interruption to the silence. Drawing a deep, calming breath, I started over.

  I arranged the first layer, cursing Bull for his late night visit. He’d invaded my home, my sanctuary. I added another layer, then a third. I had no idea what had set his eye in my direction, but it was a fair bet it had something to do with Travis.

  After stacking the last layer, I stepped back. The pyramid of beer mugs looked like a child had built it, but I couldn’t bring myself to care, directing my attention instead to the rack of margarita glasses.

  “I sure could go for a cold beer.” Mick’s voice was getting hoarse.

  “I’ll have one waiting for you,” I promised. “Or we could go for margaritas.”

  “My heart! I’ve met the perfect woman.”

  But his words were slow, seemingly spoken with care. Perhaps he was experiencing fatigue… or worse. I wanted to cry but stemmed the tears and forced brightness into my voice.

  “I’m far from that. But I can get a thirsty man a beer.”

  “And I’ll take that beer, Angel,” he said, his voice stronger. “Then I’ll kiss the most beautiful gal on earth! After that we’ll go find dinner and that pitcher of margaritas, and we’ll spend the night watching the stars. ‘Cause I won’t want to be indoors anytime soon. You ever make out under a starry sky?”

  Heat assaulted my face. “No, but I’m thinking you plan to show me what I’m missing.”

  “You smiling, Angel? You sound like maybe you’re smiling.”

  “I am.” Then I laughed.

  “Give me something to picture here. What do you look like?”

  “I’m average everything. Average height and build, brown hair, blue eyes.”

  “I’ll bet you have a killer smile.”

  “I have a crooked smile,” I assured him.

  “How long is your hair?”

  “Short. Really short.”

  “Dang, you got me, girl.” He chuckled. “I was picturing running my hands through it, all chocolate silk, falling around your shoulders.”

  “You’d be a day late for that. I just got it cut yesterday. I like it short in the summertime.”

  “Do you dance?”

  “Not very well.”

  “Too bad,” he said. “I wanted to dance at our wedding.”

  “I’ll take lessons,” I offered. “Just for you. Besides, after a pitcher of margaritas you might not care how I dance.”

  When the front door opened, my hands jerked, knocking two of the margarita glasses to the floor, where they bounced once, hit the base of the bar, and shattered.

  My heart leapt against my throat and I cast a startled glance at the door, breathing out a slow sigh when I recognized the tan uniform and the gold star. Glass crunched under my feet and I muttered a ripe curse under my breath, as I stooped to pick up the mess. The sting of glass piercing my flesh, brought on a new round of cursing, as I watched the drops of blood well, like red tears, from the base of my thumb.

  “You okay, Christine?” Sheriff Dirk Cooper, affectionately known as DC —since childhood, according to the rumor mill —hurried over. He took my hand and hissed in a breath through his teeth.

  “It looks worse than it is,” I assured him.

  Emitting a noncommittal grunt, he nodded. “Yep, you’ve got two little cuts here. They don’t look deep, but they ought to be cleaned out. Got a first-aid kit?”

  I pointed to a green box beneath the sink, as I dumped the pieces of glass into the tall trash. “I can’t believe I’m such a klutz!”

  DC pulled me to my feet, turned on the faucet, and held my hand under the running water, running his thumb lightly over the parallel red lines. “Does it feel like you’ve got anything stuck in there?”

  His touch against my palm created an urge to snatch my hand back and rub at the feathery sensation. A giggle slipped out. “No, but that really tickles.” DC applied a couple of Band-Aids, then pulled my hand to his lips, and made a show of kissing it.

  “Lisa insists this makes everything feel better,” he said very seriously. “Last night she fell off her bike and suggested, rather strongly, I needed to kiss her backside.”

  “Your toddler essentially told you to kiss her butt?” I didn't bother to fight a smile. “How does a parent handle that?”

  “The same way I handle all the dad stuff that scares the crap out of me,” DC replied. “I sent her off to find her mother.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Travis

  Christine’s laugh rang across the bar and slammed into me at the door. My steps faltered briefly when I saw the sheriff holding her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm.

  “DC, I heard you went to the dark side,” I said from the end of the bar, stemming the prick of jealousy.

  Recognition took a few seconds. Then my old friend was crossing the distance between them. “And I heard you went to the hot side.” DC clapped me on the shoulder. “Welcome home, man.”

  “I was just at your office,” I said in a voice meant only for DC to hear. “Got something I need to show you but…” My eyes slid toward Christine as she approached.

  DC caught the signal and gave a sharp nod. “I was just about to order some lunch. Why don’t you join me?”

  “What can I get you two?” Christine slid a menu in front of DC with a smile. She slapped one in front of me with a little more force.

  Startled, I shifted my eyes in her direction. Anyone else might have missed it, the hint of some indefinable emotion in her eyes; anger or fear or sadness? Or doubt? She covered well, but her eyes mirrored something troubling inside. Not even her perfect makeup covered the deep shadows beneath her eyes, which looked like they hadn’t known any more sleep the previous night than I had. My conversation with the sheriff would have to wait.

  Glancing over at DC, I answered, “How about a table for three and your company for lunch?”

  Christine stiffened and I thought she might refuse. Finally she shrugged and set another place. She didn’t talk much through the meal and I found myself giving responses of one or two words to my old friend, as I tried to pin down the emotions that occasionally played across Christine’s face.

  We were midway through the meal when DC received a call from his office.

  “That’s just great!” He slid his cell phone back into his pocket. “Someone went and started a fire at Lantree’s Lumber.” Standing, he took the last bite of his hamburger. “I gotta go.”

  When he reached for his wallet, Christine waved him off. “You know your money’s no good in here. Now go save the world!”

  I watched her with a narrowed gaze. That was her first honest laugh since I’d arrived. And it didn’t last long.

  “You’re paying the sheriff off with free meals?”

  Guileless blue eyes began to twinkle again. “Of course!”

  She was coming back, I thought, but wasn’t quite there yet. Reaching over the table, I took one of her hands in mine. “Hey, you,” I said softly. “I missed you last night. It took me less than a mile to wish I’d stayed.”

  Again a flicker of trouble floated back into her eyes, but it was gone too quickly for me to discern what it was. She said nothing, merely sighed and averted her face.r />
  The door opened behind her and Christine jerked, nearly knocking her drink from the table.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Sissy apologized. She breezed through to the kitchen without waiting for a response.

  “Okay, what’s up? You’re jumpy.” My eyes swept over the body she had wrapped beneath layers of baggy clothing. “I don’t know what you’re wearing, but it’s not you. And your eyes… sweetheart…” I leaned forward to kiss her gently, trying not to read too much into her obvious flinch. “Is it —are you having second thoughts about seeing me?”

  Christine’s breath caught. “No! That is —I —it’s not—” A tear spilled over.

  I felt like a jerk for making her cry. “Bluebell, I’m trying to understand what’s going on, but you aren’t making much sense here.”

  “Last night, right after you left, I was going to take a bath. The water was running and I was getting undressed when I heard a knock on the door.” She gulped in a breath.

  “Who was at the door?” I brought her hand to my lips, keeping my gaze focused on her face.

  “I thought it was you but it—” Another deep breath.

  Her fingers were cold as I stroked them with my thumb. “Whoever it was, you’re safe now.”

  “I opened the door with some smart comment about you missing me and spending the night and—” She swallowed convulsively. “Bull was there.”

  Ice enveloped me and I tensed, ready to commit an act of violence. “Did he touch you?” Anger and alarm fused to form a band of steel, squeezing my chest, compressing my lungs, making it impossible to breathe, while I waited for her to answer.

  A shudder rocked her body, but she shook her head. “No, but he wanted to very badly. I saw it in his eyes.” She clutched the edges of her sweater, tugging them closed. “I could feel it. When he looked at me, it felt like he was already touching me.”

  I leveled a stare at the table to my left, unable to watch her while I struggled to control the rage searing its way through my psyche. My free hand clenched. Each ragged breath I drew was like inhaling flames. I should have been there. I shouldn’t have left her alone.

  I caught her gaze again. “Has this happened before?”

  “No.” A resigned sigh accompanied the toneless word. “He comes in here sometimes. We’ve met around town. I hired his son to do landscape work this spring. But Bull’s never come by my apartment, and mostly he’s just… pathetic.” She pulled away and ground the tears from her cheeks with the heels of her hands. “He’s never caused any problems until…” She swallowed hard.

  “Until I came back.”

  When she raised her face again, sparks of anger mixed with apprehension. “Travis, is there something I should know?”

  What my massive efforts to check my temper couldn’t do, her question accomplished. The rage bubbling under the surface couldn’t hold on as compassion nudged it aside. She did deserve to know the truth. Shit.

  “Yeah. There is.” I stood, maneuvered around the table, and drew her to her feet. With gentle hands, I cupped her cheeks, raised her face so I could look at her, wiping away the last of her tears with my thumbs. Recognizing the war between anger and hope being waged in her eyes, I groaned and pulled her against me. She held herself rigid, but I refused to loosen my grasp, and finally she relaxed into the embrace.

  Burying my face in her hair, I breathed deeply, filling himself with her scent, before pulling back to meet her eyes again. “Christine, listen to me. You expected it to be someone you trusted at your door. You had no reason to think otherwise. If it had been Grant, or DC —anyone but Bull, you probably would have had a good laugh about it. Bull and me—” I huffed out a breath. How do I explain the unexplainable? “Our history is —it’s complicated, and it’s not pleasant. And I’m sorry… so sorry that it’s touching you.”

  “I’m sorry, too, Travis,” she whispered, her eyes clouded by what could only be doubt. “I feel like I should just trust you —that I shouldn’t need to know—” She took a step back and I let her go. “If you don’t want to tell me about you and Bull, it’s okay.”

  “Christine, listen. Just don’t —underestimate Bull MacKay.” I looped a strand of hair behind her ear, leaving my hand against her neck. “He’s not pathetic, he’s dangerous. He gets off on hurting people. And obviously associating with me has painted a huge target on your back.”

  She shuddered. “I just never saw that side of him before.”

  “It’s there,” I assured her. “It’s been there.” I leaned in for one more quick kiss. “Don’t go anywhere, and make sure you aren’t here alone. When I get back, we’ll talk.” The second I released her, my body cried out against her absence.

  Eyes wide with fresh alarm, she reached for him. “Where are you going?”

  “I have some ranch business I can’t get out of,” I answered, tapping the back of her hand before I moved off. “I came in to report the downed cow and arrange for removal. After that I’m all yours.”

  “You’re not —you won’t—?”

  I tipped Christine’s face upward. “I won’t lie to you, Bluebell. I want to hurt Bull MacKay right now.” For even thinking about touching you. “But I won’t go looking for him.”

  I made no promise, though, of what the outcome would be should Bull find him.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Christine

  The door closed behind Travis and still I sat, without moving. He’d run out without telling me anything, with only a vague promise of talking later. That left me feeling a little unsettled and out of sorts. What was wrong with me? I barely knew him and I had managed to come on to him, and have sex with him three times. Now I’m feeling sorry for myself because he hadn’t made any promises.

  “I’m a freaking psych case,” I told the empty chair across the table.

  Sissy popped her head through the kitchen doors. “Christine, that pipe under the main sink just blew out.”

  Of course it did, because the day isn’t already going bad enough. “I’ll call Parsen’s Plumbing,” I called out with a sigh.

  “I already did. Glenn’s out on a call, not expected back until after five.”

  “Of course he is,” I muttered

  “I’ve told you a lot about me. Tell me what you do for fun,” I suggested.

  “Well, Angel, I like fixing things.”

  “Things like…?”

  “Cars, houses.”

  “Okay, the cars I get. But houses? Whole houses?”

  “A few of the guys and I got together and bought a house. We lived there during our off-time and fixed it up. Then we flipped it and sold it for twice what we paid.”

  “So you flip houses?”

  He chuckled. “Not so much these days. But we still get together and help out on some of the community projects.”

  “And what part of the fixing up do you do?”

  “You name it, I’ve done it. A little carpentry, a little electrical.”

  “And plumbing?”

  “It just so happens plumbing is one of my specialties.”

  Lying flat on my back beneath the sink, I applied the wrench to the slip nut on the blown trap, twisting the handle with a grunt. Nothing happened. I was getting nowhere.

  I dropped my arm to allow circulation to return. “Sure could have used you here, Mick.”

  “Did you say something?” asked Sissy.

  “Just talking to a ghost.” I lifted the wrench again.

  Travis

  For the second time that day, my Corvette hit the tiny parking lot of the Pine Haven Sheriff’s Department, spewing gravel from beneath wide tires. DC’s brown patrol car pulled in from the opposite direction, before my dust had settled.

  DC exited the cruiser, a clipboard in his hand and a warning on his lips. “Some folks around here would just love it if I had to give you a ticket for reckless driving in your fancy little sports car.”

  I ignored the sheriff, rounding his car with angry strides. “Bull MacKay went after Chr
istine.”

  “Okay, slow down. I know he tried to start something at her place but I thought it was you in his sights.”

  “He was knocking on her door late last night.” Anger added an edge to my voice. “Probably less than ten minutes after I dropped her off. Would’ve been fairly close to ten-thirty or eleven.” Nearly choking on the words, he filled DC in on the events as Christine had related them earlier.

  The sheriff swept a look of speculation over me. “You and Christine Willow, huh? I thought I picked something up back at Valentine’s. You two sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “Are you getting at something, DC?” I inserted a chill into my words. “Because I’d sure like you to get around to it if you are.”

  A pained expression crossed my old friend’s face. Sighing, he leaned against the back of his patrol car, folding his arms over his chest. But the tapping of the clipboard against one hip belied the relaxation behind the move. “You know, Trav, no one ever expected you to come back to Pine Haven. Now you’re here, about fifty percent of folks don’t think you’ll hang around, and forty-nine percent are afraid you will.”

  “Where do you stand?” I asked softly.

  “I’m the one percent willing to wait and see how things go,” DC replied with a snort. “Thing is, you and Christine hooking up, well, that’s going to upset the balance a bit. Town’s still pretty well divided about her, too. Used to be no one wanted her here at all. But she’s proven herself part of this place by bits and pieces, and things are balancing out. Now she’s the darlin’ of most of the men here…” He cocked his head to the side, a smile twisting half of his mouth upward. “’ Ceptin’ Brother Bobby, of course. The teenage boys follow her like bees to clover. The teenage girls all want to be her, and most of the women wish their men would stay home with them on a Friday night. But they’ve come to trust Christine doesn’t have designs in that direction.” He paused for a beat, pinning Travis in his stare. “Add a black sheep into the mix, things are gonna get complicated.”