Tempting Fate

by Stacy Finz

  “No thanks.”

  “Where are your folks?” He hopped up on the counter and sipped his drink.

  “They left with Logan’s mom for the Lumber Barron. Is that Dink guy really performing the service?”

  Gabe laughed. “That Dink guy is the mayor.” And a vaunted member of the Nugget Mafia. Why Annie chose the old coot to officiate was beyond Gabe. But she danced to the beat of her own drum. “You see Raylene?”

  “She and my sister are already at the inn. What’s her deal, anyway? She’s hot.”

  “She’s not for you, son.” Gabe clapped him on the back and tried to remind himself that she wasn’t for him either. But he had to admit that hanging out with her these last few days hadn’t been the burden he’d expected. Truth be told, he thought about her a lot. Naked. Not something he wanted to share with his buddy Logan.

  “Should we head out?” Chad put the cheese in the fridge. “Logan’s riding with Nick.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Gabe straightened his tie in the hallway mirror and grabbed his keys off the hall tree. They made it to the square four minutes faster than it usually took to get downtown. Annie and Logan had decided to hold the ceremony at the Lumber Baron because it would be too difficult to turn the farm stand around fast enough for the reception.

  Gabe had to admit the place was beautiful. Big stained-glass window in the entry, a staircase that knocked his socks off, and fancy moldings that wouldn’t quit. His mother would’ve gone apeshit for the inn.

  He wandered around, looking at the pictures on the wall. A bar had been set up so guests could have drinks and a few nibbles before the ceremony got underway. Annie’s idea. Otherwise, a hotel like this…well, it might’ve felt stuffy.

  Dink had set up a podium near the altar. Rows of seats had been swagged with ribbons and bows and flowers. There was even an organist who’d come all the way from Yuba City, where the Sparks family went to church.

  He still couldn’t believe Logan was getting hitched. A year ago, they’d been in some shit hole in Afghanistan, freezing their balls off, talking about starting their own security firm. And here they were. Logan never could’ve predicted that they’d set up shop in a small mountain town in the middle of nowhere, though. Strange as it was, it had been a good choice.

  “Hey.” Rhys sidled up alongside him. “Where’s the groom?”

  “On his way with his stepdad. The inn looks great.” Rhys’ wife, Maddy, and her brother, Nate, owned it.

  “It’s a nice spot for a wedding.” He grabbed a stuffed mushroom off a platter and popped it in his mouth. “I got a call this morning. Drew Matthews thought he saw a stranger in his yard and found a knapsack and canteen under a tree.”

  “In Sierra Heights?” The planned community seemed like an odd spot for a hiker or camper. “You think it’s related to the trio you spotted?”

  “Don’t know. Could be related, could be nothing.”

  “What was in the pack?” People were starting to arrive, so Gabe pulled Rhys into an alcove.

  “A couple of IDs I’m running down, a hunting knife, a necklace, and forty bucks.”

  Gabe heard murmurs of congratulations and suspected Logan had arrived. “Hey, I’ve gotta perform best-man duties, but keep me in the loop.”

  “Jake’s back, but I’ll let you know what I find from those IDs. In the meantime, keep your eyes open.”

  “Will do. Hey, before I forget, you think it would be weird to ask Clay if he’d board Raylene’s horse for a while?” When Rhys looked at Gabe like he didn’t know what he was talking about, he said, “It’s a long story.”

  “You’d have to ask him, but no one’s in a hurry to help that woman, not after the mark she left on this town. I thought she was leaving right after the wedding anyway.”

  “She is,” Gabe said. “Only her horse is staying. We just need a place to stash it until we can get something built at the farm.”

  “Talk to him, but don’t be surprised if he says no.”

  Gabe was surprised. It was no secret that Raylene was persona non grata in Nugget, but her horse? The one thing he’d learned in the short time he’d lived in Nugget was that the residents would give you their left nut if you needed it, and above all else they loved animals. Gabe nodded like he understood, even though he didn’t. Clay surely had enough room for one more Wilbur in his barn. It wasn’t like the horse had done anyone wrong.

  But now wasn’t the time, so he went in search of Logan and found him and Nick in a plush room off the lobby.

  Gabe noted the big medallion on the ceiling and the marble fireplace. “Nice digs.”

  “Hell yeah.” Logan stared at himself in the full-length mirror behind the door.

  Gabe watched him preen like a peacock and affected his best Billy Crystal impression. “You look marvelous. Ready to do this?”

  “Never been more ready in my life.” Logan got the same look on his face that he did while free falling during a HALO parachute jump. Pure adrenaline rush. “Hey, do me a favor and check on Annie.”

  “You afraid she’s finally come to her senses?” Gabe mussed Logan’s hair and took the long staircase up to the bridal suite.

  His best friend was getting married. Every time he came to the realization it jolted him like an exposed electrical wire. Not the part about sleeping with the same woman for life—if she was the right woman that could be nice. It was the overwhelming responsibility of keeping someone happy. He’d tried before and hadn’t been up to the task. The results had been devastating. Another reason to avoid unhinged women.

  “Everyone decent?” Gabe knocked.

  “Come in,” Annie called and opened the door.

  “Look at you.” Gabe spun her around. The dress, white lace and poufy, was the most conventional thing Annie had ever worn. “Where’s the combat boots?”

  “I’m saving them for the honeymoon.”

  Gabe grinned, knowing that Logan loved those combat boots.

  Raylene came out of the bathroom and he sucked in a breath. She looked like sex in Western wear and he felt his blood travel south. Her blond hair had been curled till ringlets bounced down her back. And her dress was an off-the-shoulder lacy number that showed a good amount of thigh. But what really got him were the white cowboy boots. Dallas Cowboy cheerleader meets a Boot Barn ad.

  He held her steady blue gaze, but he didn’t see confidence there—she looked as if she wished she could fade into the carpet. You made your own bed, sweet cheeks. Yet part of him—probably the part between his legs—felt sorry for her. The evening wasn’t going to be easy, and if he were Raylene he would’ve worn a flak jacket under that dress. She’d need it.

  Chapter 10

  Drew gazed around the Ponderosa while Kristy was in the bathroom. It was only their second time dining in the restaurant. The first had been with Harper. An evening of bowling, then hot fudge sundaes. The place didn’t seem as crowded as usual. Then again, it was late for lunch and early for dinner.

  Drew liked the quiet, anyway. In the Bay Area you were hard pressed to find a table at a good restaurant without a reservation, let alone one where the acoustics didn’t make the place sound like a rave. Even though the Ponderosa was the only sit-down restaurant in town, it was fairly decent. Simple food done well, with friendly service.

  Before meeting Emily he’d been content to eat frozen dinners and bad takeout. His ex-wife was a cookbook author and a phenomenal chef. Another thing Kristy felt threatened by. These days, it didn’t take much.

  When he’d first started seeing her she’d been his rock. The first two years after his daughter’s disappearance had been so bleak that there were days when he didn’t know how he’d go on. Emily had fallen into such deep despair that they barely said two words to each other that didn’t have to do with Hope’s disappearance. They hired private investigators, did media interviews, an
d followed up on every lead, no matter how preposterous. And at the end of the day, they were so exhausted, so distraught, that there wasn’t any energy left for their marriage. In the third year they divorced, and in one fell swoop, he lost his daughter and his wife, the love of his life.

  Then he met Kristy and she made him live again. The pain of losing a child never subsided, but he no longer felt suffocated by grief. He didn’t have to face it every morning by watching Emily, once a vibrant woman, wither away to nothing. With Kristy he laughed, and little by little he healed.

  And now their relationship had taken a hit, and he worried that it might not survive.

  “Apparently, the place is empty because of the wedding.” Kristy returned to the table and took her seat. She motioned to the street. “It’s at the big Victorian inn…what’s it called again?”

  “The Lumber Baron.”

  “I heard two women in the restroom talking about it. The reception’s at a farm stand near McCreedy Ranch. That’s different.”

  “Sounds interesting…nice.”

  “Want to crash?” She was kidding of course, but for a second Drew caught a glimpse of the old Kristy. Just as quickly, her expression drooped, losing its twinkle of mischief.

  “Why not? Who would know we weren’t invited?”

  “Uh, the bride and groom.”

  A waiter came and took their orders. Drew chose a bottle of wine for the table. For a country saloon, it had a rather nice list, including some of their favorite cabernets from the Napa Valley.

  “What did the police chief say about your sighting?”

  They hadn’t discussed it on the drive over. Kristy had been consumed with a text her paralegal had sent her. And she’d made it perfectly clear she thought he was acting irrationally to have called the police in the first place. The chief hadn’t thought so, though. Either that or he was a good actor.

  “He said it was good that I went with my gut.” The wine came and the waiter poured them both a glass. When he left, Drew said, “He took the backpack and the canteen.”

  She didn’t say anything, staring off into the distance. “Is Harper staying with us tonight?”

  “If they get home from the wedding early enough, Emily said she’d bring her over. Otherwise, tomorrow morning in time for breakfast.”

  Kristy absently swirled her wine. “I was thinking of going home tomorrow. This case…it would be better if I worked from the office. I’ll take the Volvo.”

  They’d left it in the mountains so they’d have an extra car to drive when they rode up together.

  “Seems silly. I’d only be a few hours behind you.” If it was really work, he didn’t want to push. Lord knew he’d spent enough time away from home, pulling all-nighters on a motion or a brief. But work had become a convenient excuse.

  “I don’t want you to feel rushed,” she said. “As it is, your time was cut short with Harper this weekend.”

  He and Emily had agreed that they wouldn’t be draconian about the schedule. It was more important that Harper settled in here, made friends, and engaged in social activities. The transition had been hard enough. She’d had a whole world in Idaho. Despite what those monsters had done, they’d given Harper a wonderful life. In Morton, she’d been involved in clubs and activities and had dozens of friends. Uprooting a child in normal circumstances was difficult enough, but the transition continued to be a maze of complications.

  “Harper and I could go somewhere so you’d have the house to yourself to work. That way we could at least make the four-hour drive together.” He tried to take her hand but she quickly reached for her wineglass.

  Their food came before she could respond, and Drew saw her working up a good excuse in her head.

  “I know this is difficult, Kristy. I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done—the house here, the driving back and forth, dealing with a very confused thirteen-year-old—to accommodate me and Harper.”

  “I’m your wife, Drew. Really…it’s insulting.”

  He wasn’t allowed to appreciate her? To tell her he knew this was beyond trying for anyone, even people who loved each other deeply?

  “There’s no need to be defensive, Kris. Jeez, I can’t win for losing with you. Clearly, you’re unhappy with the setup, and I can’t blame you. But what do want me to do?”

  “Shush. You’re making a scene.”

  “There’s no one in the damn place.” He grabbed his fork and picked at his salad. “We used to talk, Kristy. Now, we’re hard pressed to carry on even a mundane conversation about the weather.”

  “I’m trying to make partner. You should know what that’s like.” She ignored her food and took another drink of wine.

  He huffed out a breath. “You know what the doctor said?”

  She turned in her chair and stared daggers at him. “I hadn’t realized you were listening, because if you were, you’d know that we missed this month’s window of opportunity. I was ovulating last week when you decided to race up here because Harper had a toothache.”

  He was screwing this up. Badly. “You didn’t tell me, Kristy. If you had told me—”

  “I shouldn’t have to, you should know.” She squeezed the bridge of her nose. “Let’s not do this now.”

  She was right. He’d put the entire responsibility of tracking her cycle on her. Between the ovulation kits and fertility monitors, she had it down to a science. All he needed to do was show up. But lately, the whole goddamn thing had become a chore. No longer was their lovemaking spontaneous; everything was done to schedule. Sometimes, she’d call him in the middle of the day to rush home from work and perform like a monkey. On the nights when he felt romantic, she put on the brakes, fearing that it would decrease his sperm count for when “it mattered.”

  And the worst part of it was: he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted a baby. This was a crucial time for Harper. She needed him. The demands of an infant would only take him away from the daughter he was just getting to know.

  “We’ve got to do it sometime, Kristy.” If they didn’t talk this through, their marriage would only get rockier.

  “Not in a restaurant in a town where everyone knows your ex-wife.”

  “This has nothing to do with her. This is about us. Only us.”

  She cut a piece of meat and regarded it for a few seconds without taking a bite. “That’s not really true, and you know it. She’s Harper’s mother and, whether I like it or not, a part of our life.”

  “I suppose that’s true to some extent, but there’s no reason for you to feel threatened by it.”

  “I’m not threatened,” she said, and pushed her plate away. “I just feel like I’ve suddenly been thrust into a commune.”

  He couldn’t help himself and laughed, because it wasn’t altogether untrue. “What do you want me to do? Abandon my daughter?”

  “No, of course not. But maybe I shouldn’t come so often…I feel like a third wheel.”

  He touched her arm. “You’re not a third wheel, you’re the love of my life.”

  Her eyes watered. “I know. And finding Harper…my God, Drew, it’s miraculous. I’m just having trouble figuring out what my place is.”

  “Your place is always with me…with us. It’ll get easier, you’ll see.” But the truth was he didn’t know that for sure. The day his daughter came home, all his priorities changed. It was a lot to ask her to change hers to meet his.

  * * * *

  The dress was all wrong. Too short, too revealing. No doubt everyone thought Raylene was trash. Why she’d chosen it, she couldn’t remember, only that Annie said she could wear whatever she wanted and this is what Raylene had pulled out of her closet. There was a time when she wore provocative clothing for attention, and Butch had even paid for a breast enhancement. She’d enjoyed men’s stares and women’s jealous remarks.

  Now she pref
erred jeans and sweatshirts and to go incognito. Better yet, invisible. The truth was she used to live to be in the spotlight, but in recent months she’d learned a lot about herself, including that she was more of an introvert than she ever thought possible. She actually enjoyed staying home and reading a book or going to the movies by herself. It should’ve been lonely, but it was liberating. No one to impress, no one to perform for, and no one to have power over her.

  Gia, Annie’s maid of honor, tapped her on the shoulder. “You ready?”

  “Uh-huh.” They were supposed line up behind the stairwell so they could start the processional. Raylene sucked in a breath. The thought of walking down the aisle while all of Nugget watched—and whispered behind her back—made her feel woozy.

  “Hey.” Gabe came up alongside her and hooked his arm in hers. “Samantha said to wait until Nick and Gia are in their places before we start walking. She wants to drag it out for drama.”

  Samantha Breyer, her husband, and the police chief’s wife owned the Lumber Baron. A party planner by profession, Sam had helped Annie coordinate the wedding and had overseen the rehearsal. While she hadn’t been outright rude to Raylene, she hadn’t been friendly.

  “Drama’s my middle name,” Raylene said under her breath.

  “Not tonight, okay?” Gabe squeezed her hand, and any resentment she felt at his comment drifted away. “Hear that? They’re playing our song.”

  A string quartet had started the opening chords of “Don’t Stop Believin’” and Raylene rolled her eyes.

  “I still can’t believe Logan picked this.” At least Annie had gone with Etta James’ “At Last,” for her walk down the aisle.

  “Didn’t you see The Wedding Singer?”

  “Shush.” Sam appeared with a clipboard and whispered, “On the count of three.” She held up one, two, then three fingers.

  Arm in arm, Raylene and Gabe glided down the aisle. She tried to focus on Logan, who stood at the altar, looking so handsome in his black tuxedo. But seeing Cecilia in the third row, staring daggers, tripped Raylene up and Gabe had to steady her.