by Bonnie Vanak
A dull flush heated her face. She had been only thirteen, and three older boys from Nick’s high school had called her trailer trash and worse. One, Martin Randall, had pushed her and laughed. The looks on their faces had scared her. “Hard to forget.”
“I went after them.” A tic started in his jaw. “I beat the crap out of them and told them to never, ever touch you again and warned them to spread the message. Hands off Shelby or Nick Anderson would make them pay.”
Shelby’s mouth opened wide. “You did that for me?”
At his nod, warmth filled her chest. All the times she’d thought he’d ignored her in high school when he looked out for her. The name calling had eased off after that, thanks to him. And no boy had ever threatened her again.
“I put Martin Randall into the hospital with a broken jaw. Silas beat my ass for that and he was going to make me apologize. I refused, and he kicked me out.” He jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Returning home was really tough, but I felt I had to do it. For you, Shel. Someone had to watch after you and Heather, make sure no one took advantage of you. Yeah, Silas gave you a home, but he was so damn clueless when it came to many things. Someone had to watch out for you.”
That was why Nick had run off when he was sixteen. And then he returned, and stuck it out until shortly after their kiss three years later. Shelby began to understand the complexities that drove Nick. “You never said anything. Dan said you left because Silas grounded you from going to that concert.”
A small, bitter laugh. “Right. As if grounding me would do any good. I was tired of Silas treating me bad, but no way in hell would I ever apologize to that bastard Martin. It would give him power over me, and then he’d feel free to go after you.”
All the while Nick had ignored her in school he had been her quiet protector. After the incident, he’d taught her self-defense moves, training he’d increased when he returned home. Shelby touched his arm. “Thank you, Nick. Thanks for being there for me.”
He gave her a sideways glance. “I never talked about it because I didn’t want you thinking you couldn’t defend yourself and you’d always need me around.”
She had needed him, and showed him that day in the cabin with her eager kiss. Her smile dropped as they kept walking. Soon after that kiss, Nick left for good.
“I did need you. As more than a protector, Nick. I was crazy about you and that day you kissed me, you broke my heart.”
There. It was out, in the open, and no longer swirling in her head. She no longer cared if the words gave him power over her, for speaking them had empowered her. Shelby knew she could move forward now.
He gave a heavy sigh. “You were too young and innocent, Shel, and if I had stuck around any longer, it would have ended badly. For both of us. I’m sorry I hurt you, but sometimes the hardest decisions are the right ones, and walking away from you, when I wanted to do more than kiss you, was the right one to make.” His jaw tensed. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
Wind kicked up the dirt and leaves on the path. Shelby noticed a large round patch on the trail and kicked the decaying leaves. The ground before her suddenly gave way and she stumbled. Nick quickly caught her arm, pulling her back. His dark gaze widened with concern. “You okay?”
Shaken, she pointed to the ground. “There’s a hole under the leaves.”
They squatted down and uncovered the hidden hole about two feet deep. Mouth flattened, Nick stared at it.
“This isn’t natural. Someone shoveled out the dirt, replaced it with brush and leaves to make it look flat. If you had been riding...”
I would have ridden into it, and Pantser would have fallen, maybe breaking her leg. Or a guest riding could have done the same, and been badly hurt.
Shelby shuddered.
They cautiously made their way farther down the trail, leaving the horse tied to a tree. A few yards away, they discovered two more holes. Now it was clear, it was deliberate.
Sitting back, he dusted off his hands. “That’s it. Trail’s officially closed. We’ll take the riders on the south trail only, and I’m going to personally inspect it before each ride. And install more trail cameras as a deterrent against whoever the hell is doing this.”
He helped her stand, strong fingers gripping her arm. Nick looked as steady as ever, while knots tensed her stomach. As they started back to the house, Nick stayed close to her, his gaze sharp as he kept watching the fields.
Nick removed his hat, swiped an arm across his forehead. “From now on, don’t ride out alone. I put Mario, John and Hank and a couple of their buddies to work fixing those fences. Making them electric and cordoning off the south pasture. Only way someone can get to those trails is through the barn and stables.”
“That costs a lot.”
“Leave the expense to me. I have a little money. I’m more concerned about you now. You okay, Shel?” Nick cupped her cheek, searched her eyes. His touch sent little electrical currents sizzling through her.
“I am now.”
“Less people know about this, the better. Felicity will get hysterical and worry about the kids taking pony rides, and Jake will tell Lynn, and Lynn will tell others.”
She understood. If word got out, they’d lose even more business.
As they walked back to the stables, Nick kept alert, his gaze constantly roving. She appreciated his protectiveness. A far more troubling thought kept nagging her.
The saboteur was getting clever, planting traps to hurt people. What would happen next, and could they stop it before someone got seriously hurt?
Chapter 11
Timmy’s birthday party became the celebration everyone sorely needed. As Timmy played video games with Mason and Miles in the basement recreational room, Shelby sat at the nearby table with Dan, Felicity, Jake and Nick. Jake’s girlfriend, Lynn, wasn’t there. Jake hadn’t said much, only that they decided to start seeing other people. He said this with his usual self-deprecating shrug, as if it hadn’t mattered. Nick understood.
Jake was the cousin he liked the most. In a way, he and Jake had a lot in common. They were experts at hiding their emotions.
Nick watched Shelby keeping a motherly eye on Timmy. Certainly the attraction between them still held—in fact, it was even more powerful. But Shelby kept him at a distance. He understood. Nick could sell the ranch, pack his bag and leave, whistling as he rode off, never looking back. Like before.
He had to convince her that he would do all in his power to save the ranch. Nick sensed Shelby was the glue holding Belle Creek together.
“We need to find a new source of income.” Dan sipped his beer. “I’ve been thinking if we decorated the barn with hay bales and pumpkins, and scarecrows, charged admission and had people come through to search for old Henry’s treasure, we could make a decent amount to stave off the bank. We planted pumpkins in the field by Henry’s cabin, should be ready for picking about now. Maybe even do a pumpkin patch. Families love ’em.”
Nick leaned back in his chair, thrusting his thumbs through the belt hoops of his jeans. He always did that when thinking. Old habit from childhood. Mentally he calculated how much he’d have to spend to make his cousin’s idea work.
“Let’s do it. I’ll fund expenses from my personal account. Wagon rides, too. Pumpkin patches are real popular. And you could set up a small store, selling that delicious jam of yours, Felicity.”
Felicity actually blushed with pleasure, and for the first time, Nick saw what had attracted Dan. She was quite pretty when she smiled. Almost human. “I’d have to have help with the canning.”
“I’ll help,” Shelby volunteered. “And we can have a craft fair. The ladies who have a quilting club in town have plenty of crafts they’d love to sell.”
Nick leaned forward, warming up to the idea. If Belle Creek were to survive, everyone ha
d to pitch in and feel they were a part of the process. Teamwork made the SEALs effective, and the same could work here. “We could set up booths. Charge them a fee for the table, a reasonable one. Dan, does the Freelander farm still have goats and donkeys?”
At his cousin’s nod, he continued, “See about them renting out their livestock for a small petting zoo for the children.”
“Pony rides,” Felicity suggested, her glance going to the boys playing on the sofa. “The children would love them. Mason and Miles will loan their ponies. Macaroni is excellent with small children.”
This had to work. Surely, it would. All they needed was a healthy infusion of cash.
Nick traced a bead of condensation along his beer bottle, remembering the people his father had cultivated to visit the farm each fall for wagon rides. “I’ll get the license in town, get the word out. If we start now, we can be ready the weekend before Halloween. I still have some clout in town. Maybe even rustle up some local talent for a concert at night.”
“Takes time to get a license.” Dan looked worried.
“Not for me. I’ll get it done.”
He would, too. For the first time, Nick felt hopeful. The plan had to work.
He gave Shelby a meaningful glance. “I’m closing off the north trail for now. It’s too remote and clogged with brush. I don’t want anyone near that trail. Jake, take the riders this week on the hillside trail. It’s got terrific views of the mountains. I’ll get started on the permits and licenses tomorrow. Maybe reminding folks of what this farm meant to the community, all the good times they had here in the past, will draw in more trail riders as well.”
Jake frowned. “Might take a while to harvest all those pumpkins. Sure we’ll make enough money for the bank loan?”
Shelby nodded. “If Nick fronts the expenses, we can make enough to make a huge difference and maybe buy more time with the bank. We can charge fifteen dollars a head, eight for children under ten, and run it Friday, Saturday and Sunday. We’ll need to hire extra help, including parking attendants. Could get pricey with the expenses.”
“Let me worry about that. The challenge will be pulling off all this in a short time frame,” Nick told her.
The real challenge was the person vandalizing the farm. Shelby bit her mouth, and he swallowed more beer, fascinated by her lush lower lip.
“We need extra security as well. Crowd control.”
“Leave that to me.” Nick rolled his empty beer bottle in his palms. “It’s all settled then.”
When Dan and Felicity went to check on the children’s game, and Jake fetched another beer, Shelby pulled Nick upstairs to Silas’s study with the excuse they needed to talk.
Nick shut the door and leaned against it as she stood before the empty, cold fireplace. “Nick, what about keeping all those visitors safe with the vandalism going on around here? Do you have the funds to hire security guards?”
He’d already considered that. “I can hire one or two rent-a-cops. That should suffice. Whoever is doing this might be scared off. They work in the shadows, and opening the farm to crowds means more eyes. Especially if they’re searching for Henry’s treasure.”
“Is that a risk we can afford to take?”
“We have to, Sweet Pea. Otherwise, I don’t see how we can drum up enough cash to keep the bank from breathing down our backs.” Nick folded his arms across his chest. “I have enough in retirement savings and my mutual funds to pay for some of the money owed, but not enough. We need this kind of big event to regroup.”
“Does this mean you’re in this to stay?”
Nick hesitated. He’d promised until the end of the month, but what if they couldn’t come up with the cash? So tempting to merely sell and leave. But not with everyone being affected like this.
This was his farm, his land, his family.
For the time being, he’d remain. “I promised you, I’d give it my best, Shel.” He gestured to the door. “Let’s get downstairs before Dan and Jake think I’m up here having my wicked way with you.” Which I would enjoy, very much.
They returned downstairs. The video game was winding down. Felicity glanced at the clock. “It’s way past their bedtime. Dan, Jake, Nick, will you clean up while I get them upstairs?”
“That’s right, you have the easy job,” Jake quipped good-naturedly.
Dan laughed. “You’ve never tried getting your nephews to bed after a sugar rush, Jake. Cleaning up is a cakewalk.”
Almost on cue, Miles and Mason began protesting as their mother herded them out of the room. Jake and Dan began clearing the table of paper plates, jesting about the times they’d fought to stay up late. Nick helped her pull down the balloons and streamers, as Timmy curled up on the sofa.
Nick glanced at the little boy, his heart tugging as he saw Timmy’s eyes close. “Why don’t we let Dan and Jake take care of this? Look at that little guy. He can’t stay awake. Let’s get him to bed.”
He picked up Timmy, who gave a mighty yawn. “C’mon, sport. Been a big night.”
Timmy shook his head. “If I go to bed, it won’t be my birthday anymore.”
“If you don’t go to bed, Aunt Shelby can’t read you a good-night story,” Nick told him.
“And your mama and daddy sent a very special gift for you, only to be opened once you were in bed.” Shelby smiled at her nephew. “Don’t you want to open it?”
Timmy suddenly seemed more alert. “Yes!”
They said good-night to Dan and Jake and headed upstairs. Once inside her apartment, Nick helped Timmy get ready for bed as Shelby got the special gift Heather had asked her to purchase. When Timmy was settled under the covers, she sat on the bed’s edge and handed him the present.
Tearing off the red-and-blue wrapping paper, Timmy stared at the gift. “A book?”
“Not just any book.” She took the copy of Charlotte’s Web. “I used to read this to your mama when she was your age. It’s a story of lasting friendship.”
Sorrow shadowed her eyes for a moment. Nick’s chest tightened. He remembered Shelby telling him about those nights, reading to Heather as their parents fought. Nighttime stories had given both sisters a sense of escape, far from the cruel realities.
Nick sat in the corner chair by the window, moving a few trucks and Legos first, as Shelby began to read. Her voice was low and soothing and soon Timmy’s eyes closed. She set down the book, tucked in the covers around him and kissed his forehead.
“Good night, six-year-old boy,” she whispered.
Nick followed her out, closing the door. He couldn’t see how Heather and Pete could leave the little boy here. If he had a family, he’d fight tooth and nail to stay together.
“Want some tea? I made sugar cookies for the party, and stashed some in here.”
Nick nodded. Anything to stave off sleep, and the memories that fought to the surface each night.
Anything to spend more waking moments with the fascinating, sexy Shelby. He sat at the counter as she bustled around the tiny kitchen, setting the kettle on the stove.
“You’re a wonderful mama to your nephew, Shel. He’s a fine little boy, thanks to you.”
Shelby brought two cups to the counter, along with the sugar cookies. They sipped their tea. Shelby ran her tongue along the cookie, her gaze distant. “I used to visit your house when I was little. Remember Mabel’s sugar cookies?”
He nodded. Mabel had been a wonderful cook, and a good person. “I remember asking if I could help, but Silas said baking was a woman’s job. He’d send me out to muck the stables.”
“I’m sorry he was cruel to you, Nick.” Shelby touched his hand. “You deserved better. I was so caught up in how nice he was to me, I failed to understand, or accept, that Silas could be a right bastard to you.”
Granules of sugar dusted her wet mouth. Nick star
ed, enraptured as if caught up in a dream. That mouth of hers, hell, it had tempted him ten years ago when he was nineteen. Back then it took all his restraint to stop kissing her and walk away.
Walk out of her life for good, because he knew if he stayed, he’d ruin her future. All his life, Silas shouted that he was no good, a loser who wasted his time. Nick assured himself he ran away to join the navy to escape from the hell of home. Now, looking at Shelby as she slowly ran a tongue over her lower lip, he knew the real truth.
He ran away from her. From the sixteen-year-old who had captured him with her sweet nature and sinful mouth, and the woman he knew she’d become.
Shelby, who didn’t care he was the ranch owner’s only son. Shelby, who took him by the hand into the bathroom to clumsily dab ointment on his split lip after he’d fought with the local bully. He knew Silas would beat his ass for fighting, and at fifteen, he was damn sick of the old man always lecturing him as much as he tired of the belt whooping his sore ass.
He’d nearly run away, but Shel stopped him.
So she’d applied cosmetics to his face, and made him look like a zombie. Then she’d done the same for herself and announced to everyone that she and Nick were cast in roles for the school play.
No one suspected a thing. Her pantomime of a zombie had made Silas laugh, deflected his father’s suspicions. By the time Silas found out about the fight, his anger abated.
Shelby, always there for him. Shelby, who ran into the woods to hide her sobs when her vicious father hit her in a drunken fit. He’d held her close that day. She was only eleven and the bruise marking her pale white cheek enraged him. Made him want to do a little punching of his own. But he’d hugged her tight, handed her a dirty handkerchief and whispered, “Never let them see you cry. ’Cause it makes them even more powerful.”