Accident Waiting to Happen

by Hart, Trinity

Never had he felt more useless in a role. Ill fit. Hope would be better off without him.

  Wholly disheartened, he slapped mayonnaise on the top slice and smashed it to the mound of lunchmeat, hacking it in half with jerky movements.

  Just to think, he’d walked Hope to her room, hugged her goodnight and let her lock herself in the room with a rattlesnake.

  He hacked the third sandwich into fours, just for the satisfaction of thrusting the knife.

  “Whoa there, bro!” A masculine hand clapped his shoulder. “You trying to kill those sandwiches before you serve them?”

  “What’s that?” Caleb never even heard Noah coming up behind him. Realizing he gripped the knife as if he was prepared to murder, he commanded himself to relax.

  “Take it easy on the food, bro.” Noah claimed two halves, piling them on top each other to make a double-decker. “I said it sounds as if someone snuck in and jammed the door. Might’ve even simply been holding the knob so it wouldn’t turn.”

  He took a big bite, chewing.

  “Yeah.” Caleb stewed at what that meant. The woman hadn’t just broken in earlier that afternoon as the pictures presented, she’d remained there even during his inspection of the house, lurking in some closet or hidden recess, waiting to strike.

  Mentally, he searched his mind, revisiting each room in the house and wondering what he’d missed.

  At least he’d done one thing right by catching the woman on film. Too bad he’d been too stupid to act with the proof right there in front of him. Maybe then he could excuse his slow reaction time and feel as if he’d done his job.

  Even with the ladder handy in his living room, Hope had brushed death. Came too close for comfort.

  Butchering the final sandwich, he piled them on a plate, dropped it to the table with a clatter and turned away, headed to the office. “I’ve got something you’ll both want to look at.”

  A few minutes later, he spread the printed, poor quality photos across the table. “I caught these on my game cameras. Any idea who this is, Hope?”

  He expected her to say it was the crazy reporter, the one that’d been bugging her. Instead, with a frown, she turned the picture this way and that. “Wow. This kinda looks like me.”

  Caleb laid a finger to her neck in the picture. “No scar though. And last I checked, you were with me all day.”

  “So you noticed that?” She looked at him kinda funny, encompassing a hand around the area hair often covered.

  “I notice everything about you.” Realizing what he’d said, he tried to cover it up with, “I’m an ex-Ranger, Hope. It’s just how I’m programmed.”

  “Oh.”

  Their eyes locked for just a moment, something unnamable passing between them and he knew she saw right through his excuse.

  He wanted to tell her he thought the scar was beautiful. That he loved her little imperfections and how they made her real. Attainable. The way her big smile wasn’t quite even, lifting higher on one side than the other. The way her hair frizzed and stood on end on hot, humid summer days. The adorable way she sometimes snorted when she laughed.

  Noah cleared his throat and Hope jerked her gaze away, lifting the picture. “So this is who’s after me?”

  “Seems that way.” Noah commandeered another sandwich, munching as if they were gathered around a table of family photos. “Any idea who she might be?”

  “Not an inkling. Why would she take Samson?”

  “Probably so he couldn’t alert you to the snake too soon. My guess, she dropped him off along the road somewhere.”

  Hope sunk back in her chair, groaning as she picked up her tea and cupped her hand around the mug, not drinking. Still shaking, though less now. “All I can think is that, for all my father’s fans, there was the occasional nasty letter and threat.”

  “Like the reporter?”

  “Could be.” Hope shrugged, her tone relaying she didn’t really buy that theory. “It’s just…I don’t know. It’s so weird.”

  Leaving the pictures, Caleb went to the window and brushed aside the curtain. Headlights cut across the dark night. “The pest control service is here.”

  “Good. About time.” Grabbing yet another turkey on rye, Noah made for the door. “Why don’t I go meet ’em and you stick here with the girl? Just in case.”

  “I’ll take a pretty lady over a snake any day.” Still, Caleb had to force himself to swallow the self-doubt that roared to the surface. The urge to ask Noah to call in a deputy.

  For Brian to hire someone new, someone competent.

  Better to quit than to fail again, the dark voice inside him roared.

  The backdoor slammed, proclaiming Noah’s exit and Caleb gripped the edge of the counter.

  “Caleb, thank you.”

  Talk about saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. “For what?” he growled in fury. “For nearly letting you die? For doing a half-shod job at protecting you?”

  So bad that some slip of a woman, more curls than muscles, had strode right in the house in broad daylight and laid a rattlesnake in her bed?

  Just as someone had waltzed right in his home and laid a bomb under his bed.

  He gritted out, “I need some air,” and slammed on his hat. The screen door reverberated behind him. Get a grip, the section of his brain that kept him sane screamed.

  Still, the ugly, dark voice within would not be tempered.

  Not even the cool, calm night air, the way it wisped around him, crisp and refreshing, managed to sooth his nerves. Staring up at the never ending starry sky, he wanted to know just one thing.

  For what purpose had this been done to him?

  He’d been rendered all but helpless. Useless as a cop. As a man. Without his strength, his body, all that was good in him went to waste.

  Caleb sunk to the steps of the small porch, laying his scarred face in his mottled hand as Hope stepped out behind him, clearly angry.

  “You do realize you saved my life?”

  That wasn’t good enough for Caleb. Not by a long shot. He was better. He held himself to perfection. Never failed, never retreated. Had medals to prove his aptitude.

  He was born to be a cop.

  Now he was nothing more than a scarred ball of matter with too much guilt on his conscience and no amount of praying seemed to make much difference.

  Nothing could bring Annie Rivera back to life.

  Hope said it again, softer this time, though no less determined. “Caleb, you saved my life.”

  Almost comforted by those insistent words—almost—he glanced back at her to discover she carried the white hat that hung on his coat rack for two years and counting. The hat he didn’t have the right to wear and hadn’t once, not since his fellow Rangers had brought it to him in the hospital after his original was destroyed in the fire.

  “You’re alive, yeah.” He huffed in sarcasm.

  Too bad he couldn’t say the same for Annie Rivera, now could he?

  “Caleb, you’re too hard on yourself. Without you these past few weeks—”

  “If I just would’ve realized she was still in the house.” He wasn’t sure if he were talking about tonight’s intruder or the grandmother that’d died because of his negligence.

  “Maybe if you had, you would’ve been too caught up searching for her to get me out of that room in time.”

  “I would’ve—should’ve—done both. Before you were ever in danger. That’s what a Ranger would do.”

  “Do you hear yourself? You’re not God.” She came down off the steps and marched up to him, looking like a force to be reckoned with in the moonlight. She inserted herself in front of him, hands on her hips and let him have it. “Pity party you. And I thought I was head of that department? Maybe I quit and you filled the position?”

  Caleb swallowed, sorely aware it was true. “Not funny. You don’t understand.”

  “Understand what? Tell me. Make me understand.” Reaching out to him, she took his hand. Smothered the sensitive, scar-mottled flesh in
her warm embrace. “Caleb, I’m your friend, aren’t I?”

  He swallowed again, unable to stop the demons roaring to his surface. “I can still hear her cries.”

  Suddenly antsy, he bolted to his feet and walked several feet away, Hope right on his heels.

  “Whose?” Slipping her hand in his, she stared up him with those huge, loving brown eyes. “Caleb?”

  Mrs. Rivera’s death—the explosion—wasn’t something he talked about. Ever. And yet this night, he did not feel he could contain the words, as if he needed to prove to Hope the failure she should count him as.

  “The woman who died in the same explosion that did this to me. I was undercover, infiltrating a drug ring in southern Texas. Real sleazes, these were, transporting packs of heroine across the border sewn in the guts of animals. Horses, large dogs, you name it.”

  “That’s awful.” She drew closer, so near him he could feel her heart beat. “Go on. I’m here. I’m listening.”

  “My cover was jeopardized but I was clueless.” He made a small sound at that revelation, as if it proved something awful. “I was renting this basement apartment in this run-down house—part of my masquerade—and one night I arrived home, zapped a frozen dinner and retreated to the bedroom. Heard the ticking and knew I had to get out of there, so I bolted. The bomb went off just as I made the front door.” The visions still very much vivid in his mind made him cringe. “Moral of the story? The bad guys got away Scott-clean and my landlord’s grandchildren will never see her again.”

  Hope shook her head as if she’d never heard something so awful. But her words belayed a different sentiment. “You blame yourself?”

  The way she said it, it was the most outrageous thing in the world.

  “I ran from that building and I never even thought twice about the kind woman above me until it was too late.” Turning away from her, he tugged his hand free and slapped his thigh, bringing himself pain. “Sometimes I think…I think God must be punishing me.”

  “Was Neil His way of punishing me?”

  “Of course not.” He hesitated a glance at her, knowing she’d a very valid point. “I just...all I’ve ever been is a cop. A good cop. And since that day, it feels like I’m nothing. I go over it in my head time and again, the things I could’ve done differently. The ways I could saved that woman.”

  Still holding his Ranger hat, she lunged forward, catching his arm before he could once again slap his thigh. “Oh Caleb. You don’t even see it, do you?”

  “See what?”

  “Being a cop, that’s only a small portion of the man who are.” She fisted a hand to her heart. “You saved me, inside. Where it really counts.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “If not for you, I never would’ve touched Elise’s teaching position with a ten foot pole, much less stepped foot in church on Sunday.” Something in her eyes, her voice, drilled right down to his very soul. “Being a Ranger is something you should be proud of but you are so much more than a cop. You have this talent…this God-given strength for ministering to others. That’s the Caleb I know. This one—” She held up that Ranger hat, shrugging. “You speak of a stranger to me.”

  Never had words touched him so deeply. Shaken him to the core with truth.

  Ministering to others?

  He’d never even considered it. Lord?

  The answer washed through him like warm sunshine even in the night.

  Had he really been such a fool all this time? Focusing on weaknesses and guilt—the devil’s feelings—rather than God’s strengths?

  Guilt wrenched at him for being so needy in Hope’s time of trial. The woman had nearly been killed and she was comforting him.

  “Hope, I’m sorry, I—”

  “Don’t you dare! Just…” Rising on tip toe, lips pursed in determination, she knocked aside his other hat and gently placed the white Stetson on his head. “This belongs on you.”

  Emotion lodged in his throat as she went on.

  “You are invaluable to me, Caleb. You protect me, lead me, comfort me when I need it. You’re my God-sent hero and I love you.”

  With that words, she wrapped her arms tightly around him and Caleb felt his entire existence shift. “You love me?”

  “Of course, silly. Do you need to borrow my glasses?” She pulled back, eyes shining in the moonlight. “Caleb, I need to tell you something really important.”

  Expectations skittered out of control in his chest, flurrying through his blood. Could it be? Could this woman feel for him as he did her?

  The revelation that followed was anything but what he hoped. “I’ve decided I’m opening Eden Retreat. I’m going for it. And I want you to be my partner.”

  Her partner but not in life. In business.

  Sure, she loved him. But as a Christian and as a friend.

  Dismay sunk through his very being. He wanted more but he’d take what he could get. “I’d be honored.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I don’t know, Hope. Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe we’re looking at this all wrong.” The undercarriage of his truck muffled Caleb’s voice as he shuffled from beneath the vehicle. Rocks pricked at his back through his t-shirt but Caleb was oblivious to everything but his concern for Hope. “What am I saying? Of course it’s a bad idea. I should go with you. What if—”

  Standing over him, the sunlight glinting off her hair, Hope sliced the air with her hands, nixing that. “I can’t take any more what-ifs. I just need to do this. Now get out of my way,” she finished with a laugh, nudging him with a pointed toe. “You worry worse than a woman.”

  “Hey now,” he admonished, wishing she wasn’t right as he hauled himself to his feet. It was true it was about the fifth time he’d changed his mind. “I’m not the one who prepared her oatmeal with bottled water this morning.”

  “Is there a better way to make it?” Despite the subject at hand, her smile lit up the world. “Listen, you’ve inspected the truck twice. No one knows where I’m going but you. I’ll be fine.”

  Those things were true but Caleb would just as soon have Hope glued to his side.

  On the subject of bible school she’d been much more negotiable. Though she’d managed to score a few hours sleep, as had Caleb, Hope accepted she was too emotionally stressed after last night’s attack to handle children all day. Elise was covering for her while a local teen helped out with the babies.

  But the beautiful woman before him would not, however, relent when it came to her decision to drive into Austin for the reading of her father’s will. She’d dressed herself in a navy blue business suit, looking as if she were headed to a funeral and he didn’t care for the dark color on her any more than the idea of her driving the distance alone.

  Trouble was, after what’d happened the past two times, he didn’t dare leave the property unguarded so he could accompany her.

  “Promise me you’ll be careful.” There was only one reason he was willing to hand over his keys, which her fingers quickly closed around. “If we’re lucky, the lawyer will shed some light on why someone is out to hurt you.”

  “Don’t count on it. But we’ll see.” Then she crossed her heart. “I’ll drive five miles under the speed limit and call on the hour.”

  “Make that the half an hour.”

  She stuck out her tongue. “You make me feel like a teenager taking the family vehicle out for the first time. I’m a big girl, Caleb.”

  “Sorry.” He opened the driver’s side door for her. “But until this crazy woman is caught…”

  “It’s okay.” Softly, she touched his upper arm. “I’m glad I have someone who cares so much.”

  More than she knew. “Anytime,” he said casually.

  “Thank you.” Her arms slid around his neck and she hugged him tight.

  The gesture overwhelmed him with a myriad of sensations. Longing. Desire. Fear.

  Since waking, he’d been unable to stop playing her words from the night before in his
head. Had begun to wonder, to gain confidence. If Hope could love him as a friend, to look past his scars and see his qualities as a man—deeper than he’d ever even saw himself—could it be possible? Could, somewhere down the line, she come to love as a man did a woman?

  It tore at his heart to release her and help her in the truck.

  Reaching in his jeans, he withdrew the practically new, high-tech cell phone he’d finagled from his snoring brother’s back pocket. “Here, take this.”

  “But I have a cell.” Scooting forward, she adjusted the seat, looking like a kid behind the wheel of his big truck.

  “Not with a GPS locator, you don’t.” Noah was a sucker for fresh-on-the-market gadgets and this one had all the perks. “Keep an eye on your rearview mirror. If you think you’re being followed, call the cops and pull in somewhere public. The more people the better.”

  “Got it.” Pulling on her seatbelt, she plugged the keys in the engine, cranking it to life. “No worries, okay?”

  “Don’t stop for anyone or anything.”

  “Aye, aye.” She saluted. “That all, Chief? Tell me you were kidding about the calls on an hour?”

  “The half-hour.” He had to look away to avoid laughing as her eyes went huge. “Call me when you get there and when you leave, so I know you’re okay. And park my truck front and center where you can see it. Where everyone can see it. No alleys or back streets or the such.”

  She gave him this serious look. “As for you, bottled water and canned food only.”

  Tempted by the urge to lean forward and kiss her goodbye, he slammed the truck door shut, giving a wave as she pulled away. Watching her rumble down the lane, he sent up a prayer for her safety—pleaded was more like it—then headed inside, where Noah was passed out face first on the kitchen table next to a plate of bread crumbs. His fishing hat covered his face but not his snores.

  It’d been a long night for everyone but Noah especially, who’d volunteered to take the midnight shift standing guard, fearing the perp would return desperate to finish her task once and for all.

  As Caleb strode toward the coffee maker, Noah lifted his head, eyes dazed and golden hair sticking straight up. “I’ve been thinking,” he mumbled, clearly still half-asleep.