She swallowed the tears that burned the back of her throat and wondered how long he would be there for her once he laid eyes on her beautiful sister Anne.
CHAPTER 10
F rustration was building inside Nat so fast, he thought he might explode from it.
His dinner date with Shayla had gone well. He’d expected things would get better between them afterward. He was certain she felt something for him. The way she’d returned his kisses should’ve been proof enough of that.
But things had sure gone awry. She’d been avoiding him again, using one excuse after another all week, whether he called or dropped by. She had to work on her book or she had to run errands or she had to take her clothes to the laundromat. She might as well have said she would rather wash her hair than go out with him again.
Now she’d driven to Boise in that clunker of a car to pick up her sister, and she hadn’t bothered to inform him of her plans. He’d learned about it from Ty as they rode out that morning to drive cattle from the south range up to Sundance Meadows.
About the tenth time Nat snarled an order, the young cowboy had had enough.
“If you’ve got a burr under your saddle ’cause of that gal, Nat, that’s your own problem. But I’m not gonna suffer for it.”
Nat scowled. What he wouldn’t give to punch something! And he might start with Ty, good friend or no.
“Man alive,” the ranch hand continued, “I’ve never seen a fella whose saddle was slippin’ as fast as yours.”
Nat reined in his gelding while muttering a few choice words under his breath.
Ty had the audacity to chuckle. “Why don’t you ask her to marry you and be done with it?”
“We haven’t known each other all that long. We’ve only had one date.”
“And that has much to do with anything?” Ty slapped his lariat against his thigh, then whistled for Coira to head off a heifer determined to go back the way they’d come. “My folks were married one month to the day after they met. Been together nearly thirty years now.”
“It doesn’t always work out that way.”
“As many marriages end in divorce as make it, and I bet plenty of those divorces were between people who knew each other for years before they tied the knot.”
Nat remembered Joanne the day she’d driven away from the ranch. They had grown up together, but their marriage had been failing. If she hadn’t died in that accident, he believed she would have divorced him.
“You gonna let Shayla get away from you, boss? You’re a fool if you do.”
He clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth, refusing to answer.
“Sometimes you’re dumber’n a stump, O’Connell.”
Despite her misgivings, Shayla had to admit it was wonderful to see her sister.
After meeting Anne at the Boise airport, the two had lunch. Anne quickly brought Shayla up to date on all the family news, but she circumvented Shayla’s inquiries into what horrible thing had sent her running from Portland.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” was all she would say.
By two o’clock, they were driving north on Highway 55, headed for Rainbow Valley. Anne kept up a steady stream of family gossip until they were past the tiny town of Horseshoe Bend. Then she said, “Now tell me about you, sister dear. What have you been doing with all your leisure time? Imagine, not needing a job at your age.”
Shayla winced. It took enormous control not to reply in anger. “I haven’t had any leisure time. I’ve been working hard ever since I got here.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Anne stared out the car window at the passing scenery. “Mom said you were cleaning houses. Why would you want to do that?”
“I meant my writing. And I’m not cleaning houses. Just one house. For a neighboring rancher.” She pictured Nat in her mind, sitting astride his dappled-gray horse, looking so handsome. “And I’m doing it because I need the money. I must get the cabin in better shape before winter comes. I don’t want to freeze to death while I’m writing my book.” My book. Remember, my book, Anne?
“But I thought Aunt Lauretta left you money as well as the cabin. Isn’t that what Mom and Dad told us?”
“She did, but not enough to see me through.”
Anne sighed dramatically. “There’s never enough money, is there? Thank goodness Mom was willing to buy me an airline ticket or I never could have come to stay with you.”
Thanks a lot, Mom.
“You can’t be cleaning houses all the time. What about men? Are there any great-looking guys around?”
Again Shayla imagined Nat. “Yes,” she answered softly. “There are.”
“Good. It’ll serve Wes right if I find somebody else while I’m here.”
So. It was a man who’d sent Anne running to Idaho. Shayla had suspected as much. Her sister changed her boyfriends almost as often as she changed her clothes. Their dad had once suggested installing a revolving front door to make it easier for the boys to come and go in a hurry.
Anne was sure to zero in on Nat the second she saw him. Who could blame her? There were a hundred—no, a thousand!—reasons why any woman would be attracted to Nat O’Connell.
She glanced quickly toward her sister, and her heart sank. Then, as her gaze returned to the road, she scolded herself. What would it matter if Nat turned his attentions to Anne? She hadn’t been seriously interested in him anyway.
Perhaps this was God’s way of reminding Shayla why He’d brought her to Idaho. She’d heard her pastor say that not only did God direct the steps of the godly, He also directed the stops. Perhaps Anne’s arrival was God’s way of stopping Shayla from making a mistake, from forgetting her mission.
Yes, that must be the reason Anne was here. It made perfect sense.
So why didn’t Shayla’s foolish heart agree with her head?
The gelding shifted beneath Nat as he maintained vigil from a clearing on the mountainside.
“Easy, Blue,” he murmured. “There’s her car now.”
He watched as Shayla turned off the dirt road and into her drive, disappearing from view behind the trees.
Sounds carried easily through the forest so Nat knew the instant the engine died. Moments later, the car doors closed, first one, then another. Next he heard Shayla’s laughter, a sound that wrapped itself around his heart, followed by their voices, both women talking at once. But he was too far away to hear what they said.
Impatiently he waited what he hoped was an appropriate amount of time, then he nudged Blue with his heels and started down the trail toward the cabin. He rode up the driveway just as a young woman—she had to be Shayla’s sister—closed the trunk, then picked up two suitcases, one in each hand. She turned and saw him as he reined in. Her eyes widened a fraction, then she smiled.
“Afternoon.” He bent his hat brim. “You must be Anne.”
Her smile brightened even more. “Yes. And who are you?”
“Nat O’Connell.” He glanced toward the cabin in time to see Shayla step onto the deck. “Glad to see you made it back all right.” He swung down from the saddle. Leaving the reins trailing on the ground, he walked over to Anne. “Let me carry those for you.”
“Thanks.” She handed him the baggage.
With his head, he motioned for her to proceed, then he followed behind her.
Anne Vincent was beautiful, tall and slender with a glorious head of straight, dark hair. She moved with a kind of assurance that was rare in a woman so young. But as attractive as she was, Nat only had eyes for her older sister.
His gaze met with Shayla’s. He smiled at her, thinking how glad he was that she was back, safe and sound, wishing he could take her in his arms and keep her there forever.
She didn’t return the smile.
Anne stopped beside Shayla, forcing Nat to stop as well. He was tempted to lean forward and kiss Shayla’s cheek.
Before he could act on that impulse, she said, “Anne, this is my neighbor, Nat O’Connell. Nat, my sister, Anne.”
&n
bsp; “We introduced ourselves already,” Anne said, smiling at him again.
Shayla turned and led the way inside. “Anne will be sleeping in the loft. Would you mind carrying her things upstairs?”
“Glad to,” he answered.
Anne followed him up the stairs. “So which place is yours, Mr. O’Connell?”
“Just call me Nat.” He set the suitcases on the foot of the bed. “I own the ranch across the road.” He pointed in the general direction of Paradise.
Her eyes widened. “That huge log house is yours? The one I could see from the highway?”
He nodded.
“I’m impressed.”
Anne was pretty, and she knew it, too. Nat could tell by the way she looked at him through thick eyelashes; the way she stood just so, as if posing for a camera; the way she gestured dramatically with her hands. She was used to getting her way with men, to having them fall at her feet in adoration.
Nat had no intention of becoming one of the masses. He’d already found the woman he wanted. With a polite nod toward Anne, he exited the loft bedroom and descended the stairs. He found Shayla standing near her computer, staring at the blank screen, her expression wistful.
“Shayla,” Anne said from behind Nat. “Shouldn’t we ask Mr. O’Connell to stay for supper? He’s been so thoughtful to carry in my heavy bags.”
Shayla looked up, met his gaze. After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “Of course. If he wants to join us.”
“I’d love to. But I have a better idea.” He smiled at her. “How about if I take the two of you into town. The diner’s not fancy, but it’s got decent food.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps we’d better—”
“You spent almost all day driving to and from Boise,” he interrupted. “You shouldn’t have to cook, too.”
At last Shayla’s mouth curved with a hint of a smile. “If you’re sure, Nat, I guess we—”
Anne interrupted this time. “He’s sure.” She stepped up beside him. “We’d love to go eat with you. Just give me a few minutes to freshen up.” She looked at Shayla. “Which way to the bathroom?”
“First door.” Shayla pointed toward the short hallway.
As soon as Anne disappeared, Nat moved toward Shayla. “Your sister seems nice.”
“She is.”
“Mighty young.”
“She’s twenty-one.”
He chuckled. “Like I said, she’s mighty young.”
“Young, pretty and between boyfriends.”
With sudden insight, he realized she expected him to redirect his attentions toward her sister. “Listen, I’ve got to get Blue back to the ranch. I’ll come for you and Anne in about thirty, maybe forty-five minutes. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Again he thought about kissing her, and again decided to wait. He didn’t want to be interrupted by Anne’s reappearance. Besides, he had a plan.
“This is it?” Anne leaned forward on the truck seat. “This is the whole town?”
“Yup,” Nat answered. “Quaint, isn’t it?”
Shayla stared out the window, feeling miserable and out of place. When Nat came for them a short while before, Anne had finessed her way into the pickup first, putting herself between Nat and Shayla. She’d done it in such a way that it hadn’t looked intentional, but Shayla knew otherwise. Still, Nat hadn’t seemed to mind. He’d smiled and chatted with Anne all the way into town.
Shayla felt invisible.
“Here we are.” Nat turned his truck into the diner’s parking lot. “It doesn’t look like much, but you’ll get plenty to eat.” He parked the truck, opened his door and stepped out.
“Wait,” Anne said before he could close the door. “I’ll slide out your side.” She held out her hand in an invitation for him to take hold and assist her out of the vehicle.
Which is what he did.
Shayla wished for a hole in the ground that she could drop through. Or maybe she wanted her sister to fall through that proverbial hole instead.
Nat came around to the passenger side and opened the door for her, offering her a hand down. Reluctantly she accepted the offer, feeling awkward and unattractive.
She was a bit surprised when he didn’t release her hand. Instead, he tucked it into the crook of his arm and kept it there by placing his other hand over the top of it. She glanced up and found him smiling at her, a tender smile that took her breath away.
She wished…
If wishes were horses, she could almost hear her mother saying, then beggars would ride.
Another vehicle pulled into the parking lot. Nat looked away from Shayla, and his smile broadened. “Ah, good. Ty’s right on time.”
How like Nat to make it a foursome. He’d provided someone for her to talk with while he and Anne—
She swallowed hard, feeling close to tears. By the time she’d blinked them away and was in control of her emotions again, Ty had joined them. Nat made the necessary introductions. Then they went inside the diner.
Somehow she endured the next hour and a half. She participated little in the conversation, listening to the stories Anne, Ty and Nat shared, never quite joining in their frequent laughter. It was so obvious to her that both men were smitten with Anne. And why wouldn’t they be? She was everything Shayla was not.
She reminded herself that she should be thankful. Anne would undoubtedly get the full court press from both Ty and Nat. Which would mean Anne would be away from the cabin even more of the time. Shayla would have the solitude to write that she craved. Only a few hours before, she’d fretted about losing her privacy while Anne stayed with her. Now she would have plenty of it.
Yes, she should be thankful rather than miserable. She should be thankful rather than feeling sorry for herself. A disgusting trait, self-pity, she thought as the four of them left the diner.
She was halfway to Nat’s truck before she realized Anne wasn’t with them. She stopped and looked behind her in time to see her sister sliding into Ty’s Jeep, her pretty face wreathed in a smile.
“Don’t worry,” Nat said near her ear. “I told him to have her home no later than eleven.”
“But—”
“I was sort of hoping we’d have some time to ourselves. Just you and me. I figure those moments will be harder to come by while Anne’s here.”
“You—”
“She’s a nice girl, Shayla. But she isn’t you.”
She’s a nice girl, Shayla. But she isn’t you.
Lying in bed the next morning, Shayla replayed Nat’s words over and over again in her head.
Maybe…just maybe.
Pulling the blankets up to her chin, she wondered what she meant by maybe. What was it she wanted from Nat? What was it she wanted for herself?
“What do I want?” she whispered.
She wanted to serve God. She wanted to be a published novelist.
But did that mean she couldn’t fall in love? Did it mean she couldn’t have a man in her life, too? Did it mean she couldn’t have Nat? Weren’t many successful writers happily married?
Married?
She groaned as she pulled the blankets over her face.
She was jumping the gun. So okay, Nat was attracted to her, but that didn’t mean this relationship was headed to the altar. She was blowing it all out of proportion. Certainly he hadn’t mentioned the word marriage. Good grief! She’d suspected Nat was still mourning the death of his wife.
She heard a door close, followed moments later by the sound of running water. Anne was up, and now Shayla would have to wait a good hour for her chance to use the shower. Of all her sisters, Anne was the worst at hogging the bathroom.
She tossed off the blankets and looked up at the ceiling. “When will I ever learn?”
She got out of bed, pulled on her robe, and walked out to the kitchen to put the coffee on.
Nat stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, his vision blurred, his muscles aching. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much t
rouble falling asleep.
Leaving Shayla the previous evening had been almost an impossibility. He would have willingly spent the night on the swing, holding her, kissing her, loving her.
Yeah, it was true. He loved her. He loved those baggy T-shirts and old cutoffs she wore. He loved her unruly curls. He loved her slightly turned-up button nose and her soft, pliant lips. He loved the way she laughed, loved how she talked about her brothers and sisters, even when she was confessing her irritation with them, loved her dedication, her stubbornness, her willingness to try new things.
So what was he going to do about it?
There was only one thing he could do: Pray! Pray as he’d never prayed before.
Following Christ, trusting in the Lord in every area of his life—it was something he was still learning to do. When he’d fallen in love with Joanne, he’d asked her to marry him because it was what he wanted. This time around, he needed to know marriage was what God wanted for him.
He glanced down at the bathroom counter. A can of shaving cream and his razor. Toothpaste and toothbrush. An empty dispenser for three-ounce paper cups. That was it. That was everything on the counter.
Marriage.
He’d seen Shayla’s bathroom. Stuff everywhere.
He chuckled. “Lord, I’d give her all the space she’d need, if she was my wife. I wouldn’t mind the clutter. I love her more than I thought possible. If she’s to be my wife, please help me know when and how I’m to do the asking.” He drew a deep breath. “And please tell her to say yes.”
CHAPTER 11
Chet looked around the room, desperation welling in his chest. The killer had been there. He'd taken True.
First Neal.
Then the sheriff.
And now True.
If she was dead…
No, he wouldn’t let himself think that way. She meant too much to him now. In recent weeks he ’d discovered there was lots more to True Barry than most people realized. Her tough-gal persona was just that. A persona. Beneath that crusty shell beat a sentimental heart of pure gold.
Trouble in Paradise: A Novel Page 10