“I’d much rather stay with you than be chasing down Dylan.”
When they entered the staff RV, Deke spotted Lisa lying on the floor in the fetal position, her face carved by agony.
Evie ran to her side. “Lisa, are you okay? Where do you hurt?”
Lisa tried to cover her eyes. “Head,” she whispered.
“Help me get her into bed,” Evie said to Deke.
“Stomach.” Lisa crossed her arms over her middle.
“We’ll take it slow,” Evie promised.
Lifting a hundred and twenty pounds off the floor with one arm proved challenging, but with Evie’s help, he managed it.
“Have you taken anything?” Evie asked Lisa once they had her settled in bed.
“Couple acetaminophen.”
“How long ago?”
Lisa’s face contorted and she shoved it into the pillow, withdrawing.
Recognizing the signs of a debilitating migraine, he held a washcloth beneath the faucet, wrung it out and then folded it into thirds. He approached from the opposite side of the bed and smoothed Lisa’s hair away from her cheek.
“Let me see your forehead, Lisa.”
He heard her swallow hard, no doubt bracing herself against the movement and light. Finally, she turned enough for him to drape the wet cloth over her forehead. She tensed at first, then pressed the cloth against her eye sockets.
Evie readjusted the cloth. “It’s cold.”
“One of my good friends suffers from migraines. He swears by cold compresses, darkness, sleep, and a cool room.
He caught Evie’s eye and motioned her toward the door. Clicking off the light, he closed Lisa inside the cavelike room.
“How long did it take your friend to recover?”
“Depended on the severity and the medication.”
“She never indicated that the pain was at the level of migraine.”
“I’m only speculating based on my experience. It might just be a bad headache.”
“I’ll see how she’s feeling tomorrow. If there’s no change, I’m taking her to urgent care.”
“What about your patients?”
“Lisa’s supervisor at the Blue Valley Medical Clinic will know what to do. Maybe he’ll send a replacement nurse practitioner. In the meantime, I’ll do what I can for them.”
“Extreme on-the-job training.”
“I can handle it. I think.”
He brought her face up to his. “If anyone can handle this situation, it’s you.”
She curled her arms around his waist. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve gotten used to you being underfoot.”
He squeezed her, hard.
“What if you’re wrong about your brother? You could get stuck in the middle of something dangerous.”
He chucked her under the chin. “I have a big brother obligation to make sure he’s not in over his head.”
“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes and plopped down in a chair. “Lord save me from big brothers.” Her gaze climbed up to his and held there for several seconds. “What’s with you and Lisa?”
He tensed. “What do you mean? She’s a friend.”
“Perhaps more than a friend, at some point?”
Torn, he scrambled for the right response. If he lied, she would eventually find out and he’d lose her trust. If he confirmed her suspicion, she would constantly be analyzing his every word, every look, every gesture. Which hell should he pick?
“It was a long time ago, Evie.”
“Did you love her?”
He anchored his hands on his waist, staring at the floor, wishing he’d had a third option. “I cared for her.”
“You never loved her?”
“I suppose I did on some level. We were together for two years.”
“Why did you break up?”
He couldn’t tell her the real reason. That Lisa hated his long absences. Hated not knowing if he’d return home alive or stuffed in a body bag. If he gave Evie some vague reference to his work, she would pelt him with questions. And when he stopped answering, she would become suspicious or, worse, curious about his career. Evie Steele was the last person he needed sniffing around that area of his life. He couldn’t think of a more tenacious person.
“We grew apart.”
“You grew apart.” She repeated his words in a dull, disappointed tone.
“Expecting something more messy?”
“Something more, yes.”
“We’re friends, Evie. Nothing more.”
She gave him a tentative smile. “Have I ever told you that I’m territorial? It seems to be a Steele trait.”
“I’m a one-woman guy.” Where did that come from?
“I hope to be the one woman someday.”
The vulnerability in her beautiful eyes nearly forced him to his knees. “Evie—”
She held up a hand. “Don’t. Please. Let’s get through the migraines and murder case first.” Her eyes darkened to a deeper, more determined shade of blue. “I’m not giving up on you. On us.”
If anyone else had said those same words to him, he’d be running to the opposite side of the county. They would’ve sounded clingy and desperate. But not with Evie. Her quiet statement sent an inappropriate heat down his spine. Never before had a woman staked such a claim on him.
Evie was a force of nature.
One he hoped didn’t explode around them.
14
The next day, Lisa felt well enough to see the handful of patients lined up outside the Med Mobile. Afterwards, Evie—with Deke’s help—managed to talk her into postponing the rest of the tour so she could go see a doctor about her headaches.
Evie spent the afternoon updating their website and drafting a notification to their newsletter subscribers. Lisa insisted on calling each of the host locations to deliver the bad news and to assure them the tour would resume soon. Deke had been making his own phone calls, though she couldn’t discern their nature.
She thought he was trying to arrange a pickup, but he wound up driving back with them to Steele Ridge, only to leave as soon as they arrived. After he loaded her luggage into the back of her Rogue, he tangled his fingers with hers. An uncertain silence descended between them.
“Are you headed back to Asheville?” she asked, trying to find a clever way of asking when he’d return—and failing.
“Not for another week.” He opened her driver’s side door. “Enough time to find my brother and ring his neck.”
“Be gentle. He might have stumbled upon Gracie Gilbert seconds before we did.”
“Why did he run from me?”
“Maybe because he’d just seen the inside of a dead woman’s neck.”
“Gallows humor, already?”
“All I meant by my comment was that there’s no way to prepare yourself for such a sight. And there’s not a right or wrong way to react.”
His lopsided grin appeared. “When did you get so smart?”
“Around three years old, I think.” She squeezed his fingers. “I’m going to miss you.”
He tucked a few strands of wayward hair behind her ear. “I won’t be gone long.”
“You won’t?”
“We have more talking to do.”
She tried to smile, but it came across wobbly. “We do?”
Nodding, he whispered, “I’m about to do something contradictory and foolish and so damn necessary.” He drew her against his body and covered her mouth with his. The kiss was gentle, tender. More so than any other before it. An ache formed in her throat. She couldn’t shake the feeling, despite his assurances, that it would be months before she saw him again.
He pulled away, and her anxiety trebled. The words “call me” clung to her lips, clawing for escape. Too desperate, too needy.
Instead, she sent him off with an even more inane parting. “Stay safe.”
When she made her way down Tupelo Hill’s long drive, she noticed several familiar vehicles
parked outside her mother’s most prized possession—a large white farmhouse with a beautiful wraparound porch. A place her six children could always call home, even though the house they grew up in was about a quarter of the Hill’s size.
The screen door leading into the kitchen slammed behind her, forcing five pair of eyes in her direction.
“Evie!” her mom exclaimed, casting the other occupants a nervous look before giving her youngest a kiss and hug. “You’re home early.”
Her smile faded as she took in Britt and Randi and Reid and Brynne. They all wore the same “caught me” expressions. She could hear others in the dining room.
“Lisa got sick. What’s going on?”
Britt strode over, bussed her cheek, and relieved her of her carry-on bag. “Hello, Squirt. Welcome back.”
“What am I interrupting?”
“You’re not interrupting anything. Boring family reunion talk,” her brother Reid said, hooking his arm around her neck and pecking a kiss on her head. “Mom’s feeding us. Come sit down. Food’s almost ready.”
Reid guided—or rather dragged—her into the dining room where she found the rest of the gang—Grif, Carlie Beth, Aubrey, Micki, and Gage. They were playing some kind of card Q&A game.
“Aunt Evie!” Aubrey bolted forward, all arms and legs and budding breasts.
Squeezing her niece tight, she asked, “Are you stomping the adults?”
“Everyone but Micki. No one can beat her.”
Micki, wearing a black tank top and jeans, waggled her eyebrows. “Hello, sis.”
Although she’d gotten over feeling abandoned by her sister, she still had a hard time doing the whole sista-love thing. She’d idolized Micki. Her big sister was crazy smart and kick-ass. No one had ever messed with her when Micki had been around.
But then Micki had run off and gone to Vegas, leaving Evie to deal with all the snotty, cruel kids. Those days still had the power to sting if she dwelled on the memories too long.
“Hey, Mick. You gonna tell me what this get-together’s really about?”
“Nope. Drop it so everyone can go back to pretending.”
She smiled. This was the Mikayla Steele she remembered and loved. Outspoken and never lip-glossed anything.
“I can go to my room and let everyone continue conspiring against me. I’m dog tired, anyway.”
A wiry, muscled arm curled around her middle, holding her steady. A hand shot out in front of her, and a jittery image of her and her brother appeared.
“Say ‘I’m a party pooper.’” Jonah crossed his eyes, then snapped a shot.
She tried to elbow him in the ribs, but he jumped away, laughing.
“That’s enough,” Joan Steele said, placing a large dish of lasagna on the table. “Evie, take your place.”
Grif’s lips twitched. “Got a spot right here.”
Randi, Britt, Reid, and Brynne brought in the rest of the dishes. To her amazement, Britt didn’t take the seat at the head of the table. A place he’d assumed not long after their father had crawled in the woods and never returned. Instead, he took the place to their mother’s right, with Randi moving to his other side. Evie slid next to Grif and waited to see who would take the head chair. The answer shocked her more than Britt’s decision not to sit there.
Busy uploading their selfie to God knew where, Jonah hadn’t yet realized the dynamic going on around him. When he finally dropped his phone into his pocket, he frowned, glancing between the head chair, Britt, and Mama—who raised a brow.
Britt said, “Food’s not getting any warmer, bro.” A look passed between the eldest and youngest brother. An understanding.
Tears stung her eyes. Britt had been the head of the household for over a decade. Tonight, he released the reins to Jonah—the only unattached male Steele.
Jonah looked supremely uncomfortable when he eased into the seat next to her.
She placed a hand on his arm. “You brought us all back together. The spot looks good on you.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Reid said. “If you ever join the ball and chain club, I’m busting your ass out of that chair. Always wanted to see the view from there.”
“Ball and chain?” Brynne repeated.
Reid winked. “Just an expression, Brynnie. You know you’re more like my anchor.”
“Not much better,” Grif warned, passing the breadbasket.
“I caught a glimpse of your new house on the drive in,” she said to Jonah. “They’ve made a lot of progress.”
“That monstrosity’s going to block out the sun and kill all of Mama’s flowers,” Reid said.
“Hardly,” Carlie Beth said. “The sun will flow right through all those big, beautiful windows.”
“The river stones were delivered today,” Jonah said. “I’m most looking forward to seeing the fireplace done.”
“Something you’ve always wanted,” Micki added, knowing her twin better than anyone else, despite their decade-long separation.
“The lasagna smells amazing, Mama,” Evie said.
A chorus of agreement wove around the table.
Mama smiled. “What happened to Lisa?”
Evie plopped a spoonful of cottage cheese next to a square of lasagna and a pool of her mom’s homemade applesauce on her plate. “She got a really bad headache. One that had her in the fetal position last night. Deke thinks she suffered a migraine.”
“Deke?” Britt asked.
“After you talked up the MedTour at Triple B the other day, he decided to spend his recuperation writing an article about us.”
“He joined the tour?”
“Yep?”
“Where’s he sleeping?”
“Right next to me.”
Granite solidified beneath Britt’s features. She glanced around. All her brothers wore the same I’m-going-to-kill-Conrad expression. Even Gage joined the mob.
Oh, crap. She could tease her brothers about a lot of things, but they would never find the sullying of her honor funny.
“He’s in the spare sleeper sofa.” Her clarification did little to soften their concerns, though Gage backed off a bit. Since he’d never seen the inside of the RV, he didn’t realize how close the sleepers were to each other. “Might I remind you all that Lisa slept only a feet away?”
One-by-one, her brothers’ attention returned to cleaning their plates. Micki’s mouth quirked into a sideways “You survived that one” smile.
“How cool that Deke’s writing about your good work,” Brynne said into the silence. “You’ll soon be a local celebrity.”
She released a tension-ridding snort-laugh. “I don’t think his literary reach goes that far.” She took a drink of water. “Besides, with the tour cut short, I doubt he got enough information to complete the article.”
“Where’s Deke now?” Britt asked.
She narrowed her eyes on her brother. “Why?”
“I want to see if he’s still up for some fishing.”
And a man-to-man chat, no doubt.
“Something came up with his brother. He returned to Steele Ridge only long enough to make sure Lisa was settled.”
“What’s going on with his brother?” Randi asked.
She hesitated. Only she and Deke knew for certain that Dylan was at the crime scene. The more people in the know, the more vulnerable Dylan would become. She had to give Deke a chance to sort out his brother’s involvement in Gracie Gilbert’s death.
“I’m not sure,” she said, settling on the truth.
“Dylan’s been in and out of trouble since they moved back to Rockton. Shoplifting, reckless driving, fights, the list goes on. Deke’s been cleaning up after him for years.”
“I’ve never heard him complain about Dylan,” she said.
“Have you heard Deke complain about anything?” Britt asked. “He’s like you. Lets all the negative stuff slide off his back.”
“Negativity solves nothing.”
Although Britt’s explanation about Dylan seemed to put
the brakes on the any further questions, she decided to drive the conversation down a lane that wouldn’t catch fire.
“I’ve been thinking.” She caught Gage’s eye. “The training center needs a yogi.”
“Yogi?” Reid cut in, his face a mass of horrified wariness.
“To teach your participants yoga. It’s a complete mind-body workout that combines stretching and strengthening poses for the body with meditation exercises to focus the mind.”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Micki said.
“I agree,” Carlie Beth added.
“You want a bunch of cops and special ops guys doing the downward dog? In bike shorts?”
“Yes,” all the women chimed in, including Aubrey and Mama.
Gage smiled. “We’re outnumbered.” He contemplated Evie, his right eye scrunched. Although she’d used the workshop to redirect her brothers, the yoga concept was something she’d been toying with for several weeks. She had assumed Reid would pooh-pooh the notion as too metaphysical or something, so she hadn’t made any attempts to persuade him about yoga’s benefits.
Gage’s next comment was slow and thoughtful, as though he were working through the idea in a logical, systematic fashion. “Might be the thing that sets our training center apart from all the others. Wouldn’t hurt to strengthen more than our trainees’ instincts.”
“Dear God.” Reid sat back, glaring at his friend and president of the training center. “Are you siding with these lunatics?”
Resting his arm over the back of Micki’s chair, Gage caressed her bare shoulder. “Lunatics make for good company.”
“Evie, since you’re free for several days,” Mama said, swerving the conversation into yet another direction, “can you help me go through the attic? There’s so much up there that could go to charity.”
A cold sweat broke out all over Evie’s body as images of a dusty, dark, insect-filled shed overwhelmed her mind.
Everyone at the table became very interested in their food again, avoiding eye contact with Mama in order to dodge recruitment. Cowards.
For three decades, the Steele clan had accumulated stuff, like every other American family. All that stuff had lived in a shed behind their tiny house for years. When Jonah purchased Tupelo Hill for Mama, their stuff had traveled with them. Mama had not been ready to part with her children’s poorly drawn artwork or their third grade report cards or their first pair of shoes. Nor had she been prepared to trash her husband’s old grill or his rusted-out handsaw.
Roaming Wild (Steele Ridge Book 6) Page 10
