Chapter Seven
Moonlight shone a wide bar of light across Colton as he lay on his bed. He glanced at the blinds Kate bought for him to install. That and other thoughts crisscrossed his mind in every direction. His career, the death of his father, the barn he spent time wandering through after dinner against Kate’s wishes.
Kate’s harebrained idea the barn was about to fall on whoever’s head passed through its doors was ridiculous. He intended to convince her the barn was worth saving. He found the inner structure intact. Major support beams were dry and protected from the elements. Where the roof showed signs of deterioration, repairs could be made with the addition of a new roof. One thing was certain: the barn would stand long after he and Kate were gone.
The biggest surprise was finding two horse stalls, and a tack room with cracked leather harnesses and rusted bits. An old John Deere tractor and disc-wheel plow sat in the middle of the barn.
Since Kate’s land had never been tilled, he figured the equipment was dropped off either with or without permission. Much like the broken chairs with ripped caning, dishes. and odd pieces of furniture scattered around the barn with no design or order. Most was junk but a few pieces of furniture showed promise if refinished.
Kate’s call about Tom Cutter ran over these thoughts. No matter what he told her, Colton doubted his natural curiosity would allow him to ignore the call.
His mind too active to lay still another second, he swung his legs over the edge of the rollaway and phoned his lawyer. Seth Silberstine had left several messages, and he didn’t think he should ignore them with talk of a lawsuit heating up. “Seth. Colton. You trying to reach me?”
“In daytime hours, yes, but I’m going to ignore the fact it’s one in the morning and come to the point. Ted is going ballistic over your sudden disappearance,” Seth said of the Bullets General Manager, Ted Liggett.
“What’s the Piranha doing? He was supposed to run defense for me.”
“He did. The Bullet’s released a statement today before game time.”
“What kind of statement?”
“Ted told the press you’re away for special rehab and that they’re keeping your location secret to insure privacy and focus. That you’ll return well before your sixty-day disabled status ends and be back on the roster. Ted expects to hear from you. And soon. He wants you to know the Bullets won’t be held hostage by a prima donna.”
“Prima donna? Ted’s a prick. Hell, Seth. They’re threatening to withhold my bonus at contract end over a freak accident last fall. I took them to the playoffs last year and would have this year, if a hard hit hadn’t belted me in the shoulder.”
“It was negligence to get on that dirt bike.”
“My dad had just died. The season was over.”
The silence on the other end of the phone meant Seth didn’t like his excuses. His negligence was not debatable in anyone’s mind. Not the Bullet’s management, his agent, or his silent lawyer.
“Prima donna,” Colton spat and pictured Seth sitting on the edge of his bed in pinstriped pajamas, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was a slight man with a short-clipped thatch of salt-and-pepper hair. His sharp dark eyes could bore holes through his rimless glasses. Words were measured with care whether it was one in the morning or one in the afternoon.
“I hate being called a prima donna.” Colton walked to the side window and gripped the window frame. The weathered barn was ghostly white in the moonlight. He slapped his hand against the frame, impatient with the silence. “My entire career’s been played by the book. Then I have one slip in judgment that results in a freak off-season accident and I’m a prima donna? That’s bullshit. I’m the Bullets’ damned meal ticket, and you know it. Ted knows it and so do the owners. They’ve told me as much to my face. Shit, this fries my ass. Prima donna.”
“Are you done?”
“Shit.” Colton huffed out a breath.
“Attendance has fallen off with you away. I’ll let them know you agree to be back in Chicago a week before the sixty days are up. You need to be visible. Can I count on you?”
“I’ll do you one better. Tell them to count on me returning to the mound as a starter.”
“Good. That will settle the Bullets management down. They know with the media engaged with your return, the stadium seats will be full. Then we’ll have more leverage to make sure you get your bonus.”
“I’m sure as hell not sitting on the bench the rest of the season.”
“You will if you want your bonus. Are you worried the arm won’t heal?”
“I’m not sure. Things don’t feel right. I started the season gangbusters until that damned hit blasted into my shoulder. It hurts like hell. I’ll tell you one thing that’s certain. I intend to return to the mound this year no matter what the shoulder feels like. My contract ends this year.”
“Then let’s string it along. If you have to sit on the bench a few weeks, be smart and don’t complain. Why go to court with a breach of contract fight that freezes your wages and your bonus.”
“You can count on me.” Colton set his jaw while trying to loosen the stiff, aching shoulder. “There’s another matter I need you to look into.” When Seth balked upon hearing Kate’s situation, Colton bristled. “I don’t care what type of law you practice, I pay you top dollar. Pass it off to an intern. If Bennett Field is real, I want to know what he’s hiding up his sleeve.”
“In return, make sure you call me before eleven.” Another beat of silence. “Mason says you’re holed up in the Appalachian Mountains to think. Wrap your mind around what we’ve been talking about here.”
Colton knew he meant the negligence to get on a dirt bike and sitting on the bench until the season ended. “I’ll call Tony,” Colton said of his agent, Anthony Pirana.
“We’ve already talked. He’s in agreement.”
“You called him?”
“No. He called me. Seems you’re not returning phone calls to anyone.”
“I deserved that, but my cell’s open now.”
“Glad to hear it.”
They hung up. Prima donna. Why this bothered him was unclear other than Kate had been throwing his ego in his face ever since he arrived. As far as Colton was concerned, he bent over backward to keep everyone from the Bullets’ management to the press happy. Didn’t anyone remember the endless charity events he attended pro gratis or the time he gave the press for in-studio interviews?
Next, Colton dialed his agent, Anthony Pirana. Although Tony’s nickname was a play on the spelling of his last name, his personality fit the sharp-toothed, flesh-eating fish. Colton left a voice mail. “Piranha. Next time you talk to Seth behind my back, you’re done. I don’t care how many voice mails you’ve left me. I’m trying to get some rest here. Do your job, and I’ll do mine.”
There was an empty threat. Under the circumstances, he doubted the Piranha gave a shit.
The sight of the barn drew him back to window like a lost love. His brother would love fixing it up. Come morning, he would call Mason about Kate, while Seth and the Piranha guided his career through choppy waters.
A small notebook found in Bessie’s glove box was opened. A new list emerged. He struck a line through Seth and Piranha’s names, adding Mason’s with a note to find Kate a carpenter and call his trainer. He also added rocking chairs for the front porch. What proper country home had a sprawling front porch and no rockers?
With satisfaction, he slipped the book and pen under his bed. Maybe lists did have merit. It made him feel in control.
Once he settled down enough to attempt sleep, a clatter outside made his eyes fly open. Just as fast, he was on his feet with his back to the wall. The front window provided a clear line of sight to the construction pile had Kate’s truck not blocked the view.
He eased out onto the front porch and saw a lanky figure pulling a large piece of drywall from the pile. Colton quietly stepped off the porch with every intention of full surprise, but the youth saw him and bolted.
Colton shouted and took chase. “Hey, stop!”
A stutter step and hop was followed by a curse when he came to a sudden halt. He yanked a twig from the ball of his foot. Tossing the stick aside, he glanced up in time to see the kid disappear over the ridge.
Cold air pebbled the skin across his bare torso and left no option other than limping back to his room. The foot was cleaned and wrapped in his Bullets T-shirt before settling back down on his bed. The foot throbbed with each beat of his heart.
It had been one hell of a day.
****
Kate cradled a cup of hot coffee between her hands while sitting on the top step of the front porch. The temptation to peek in the front windows of Colton’s bedroom was almost unbearable. Was he still sleeping? Had he left on foot? It was already ten. How could he sleep in such a bright room? If he didn’t get his butt out of bed soon, she’d be making him lunch not breakfast.
She was about to go inside when the front door swung open. In last night’s shorts and unbuttoned jean shirt, he limped across the porch, sitting close enough to warm her with his body heat. White socks covered his feet. He grunted out a yawn. She slanted a look his direction. “Somehow I thought a ballplayer would be a morning person.”
“I am.”
“It’s ten. The day’s half gone.”
“I’m on vacation.”
She didn’t pry when he clammed up, startling her when he said without preamble, “You’re right.”
“About what?”
“Someone’s lifting junk off your construction pile. I heard him last night. Stepped on a twig so couldn’t catch him.” He lifted a foot. Dried blood blotted the bottom of his white sock. “Don’t worry. My tetanus shots are up to date.”
“Do I look worried? It’s nothing. I’ve cut my foot on twigs more than once. I’ll get you an antibiotic and bandages.” She started to stand.
“Sit. You can get it later.” He clamped a warm hand over her knee. As quick, he let go to lock his heavy-lidded burnt-honey gaze on her. His tousled hair shone golden in the morning sun. “Didn’t you hear me shouting?”
“No.” She tipped her coffee cup against her dry lips. The intimacy of the moment made the construction pile a safer place to stare, thinking last night was the best night’s sleep in months. Secure with a man in the house. “Slept like a log last night. After the long day yesterday, I nearly missed getting Lindsay off to school this morning. Did you get a good look at him?”
“What makes you think it’s a him?”
“Because you said him.”
A grin curled at the corner of his mouth. “It was hard to tell one way or the other. The kid ran like the devil himself was on his tail.”
“Aha. So it was a him and not a her?”
“Just saying, why always assume a male?”
“Because I doubt a girl would be roaming these woods at night.” She reprimanded herself for fueling the silly fray and let out a long exaggerated sigh. “Do you always look for an argument when you roll out of bed?”
“I don’t consider this an argument. It’s an exchange of ideas, and you offered a very logical opinion.”
“You know what, Colton. My ex and I had vicious arguments. Once I saw how it frightened my daughter, I made a conscious effort to stop. I wasn’t always successful with my marriage falling apart but I did try.”
She went into the house with him protesting at her heels. “Did I raise my voice or holler?”
“No.”
“Curse or say anything that wasn’t true?”
“No.”
“Did I compliment you on making a good point?”
“No, I mean yes.” She shook her head, dizzy from his counterpoints.
“Then it isn’t arguing.”
Kate couldn’t hold back the bark of laughter at his logic as they entered the kitchen. This was an argument no matter how low their voices. One she wasn’t winning until she filled him with coffee and food and he was fully awake. Ballplayer or not, this man was not a morning person.
She retrieved bandages with a tube of antibiotic from the cupboard and set them on the kitchen counter. “Keep your foot clean and dry. Use the antibiotic several times a day.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How about a stack of pancakes with fresh blueberries for breakfast?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a wide grin and snitched a piece of cold, crisp bacon off a plate on the counter before sipping the coffee she poured into a yellow mug. “Man, I feel more human already.” He leaned a hip against the counter. “I could get used to this bed-and-breakfast stuff.”
“As you said last night, this isn’t a normal bed-and-breakfast experience.” Batter for six large pancakes was poured onto the hot griddle. Then she sprinkled fresh blueberries across them. “If it were, you’d be eating in the foyer’s guest communal area not the privacy of my kitchen.”
When that didn’t get a comment, she observed him stirring cream and way too much sugar into the black brew. “What should I do about the construction-pile thief?”
“I’ll be better prepared to catch him next time. Once we know what he’s up to, then we’ll know how to handle it. If it’s just a kid wanting scraps, we’ll make sure he takes them in daylight. Then I’ll call to get the pile hauled away.”
“We’ll? I’ll?” Her eyes blazed. “Is it your God-given nature to grab hold of everyone’s business and make it your own?”
“Just being helpful.”
“You know what I think your problem is?”
“What’s that?” He sidled up closer to watch her flip the pancakes.
“I think you stand out there on that pitcher’s mound and the whole universe revolves around you. You like it that way.”
“Interesting.”
“Then when you’re off the mound, you just keep on orchestrating everyone’s life because you can’t help yourself.”
“No, I’m not helping myself. I’m helping you.”
“Well don’t.” She held his gaze. “What?”
“Do you think I’m a prima donna?”
“No. There’s something too grounded about you to call you a prima donna. Irritating? Oh, yes. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
“Really. You look guilty.”
“Guilty of what?”
“You tell me. All I know is you look like Lindsay when she knows she’s in trouble and doesn’t want to ’fess up.”
“Interesting.” He sat down at the table with his coffee mug and drank the orange juice she set there. He cleared his throat. “I guess I was wondering who might live around here with kids.”
“No one.” Kate wasn’t so sure that’s what he was thinking at all. She went on to tell him about the ranger cabin and a Corps of Engineer office nearby. “I’m actually relieved to hear it’s a youth but I’ve no idea where he could be living.”
“Why not let your dad check it out? He might know of a new family in the area.”
“Actually, I’d rather avoid telling my dad. He and my mother aren’t happy I chose to live up here alone with Lindsay.” More criticism. More bad decisions. No. She would not give her dad ammunition to prove he was right once again.
Lindsay was her only concern. Kate would protect her daughter even if it meant sleeping with her gun. Then she reminded herself she’d not heard Colton shouting or the prowler.
She needed an alarm system.
Colton swooned when she set the hot pancakes before him to slather butter and syrup over the stack. Joy raced through her heart. She never fed her ex like this. He didn’t want her doing such mundane duties and expected their cook to serve. She had felt like a useless piece of furniture most of the time.
This was nice even if it was pretend. Possibly she needed the inn to make up for the years she yearned to nurture. As Lindsay grew older, she would need less and less of Kate’s time.
“Put in an alarm system,” he said around a mouthful of pancakes and grabbed for a piece of bacon she
warmed. “Umm. Umm.” He continued to dig into his food.
Kate was pleased he was enjoying breakfast but miffed at his comment. Twice this morning he made suggestions she already considered herself. Getting the construction pile hauled away and having an alarm system installed. In a silly way, it stole her thunder. And the pig-headed man would think it was his idea if she went ahead with his advice.
Not that any of it mattered. He would go back to Chicago and she would still be faced with an unwanted visitor roaming her property at night.
Colton wiped his mouth on a napkin. “How about I put a sign out by the mailbox that you’re looking for a finish carpenter?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s not much traffic on the road.”
“What about the ranger’s cabin and the Corp of Engineers office? Surely people go back and forth. They might know a carpenter looking for work.”
“Knock yourself out. What harm will it do?”
“Exactly.” Colton relaxed in his chair, staring at her until a prickle of discomfort made her hold his questioning gaze. “How come you never mentioned you’re a songwriter when I asked you about yourself last night?”
“Who told you I write?” she blurted.
“Bobby. Said you were a damned good musician yet there’s not a single musical instrument around your place. It seems strange. How come?”
“Because that part of my life is over.”
“Why? Because your ex said so?”
Blood roared in Kate’s ears. Bobby couldn’t possibly know her ex forbid her pursuit of a career once they married. He wanted an old-fashioned wife who stayed home and concentrated on Lindsay. He turned their home into a prison. “Bobby had no right to talk about my private life to a stranger.”
“Bobby didn’t tell me a thing other than you were talented. I figured the rest out on my own.”
“Then let’s be very clear. That part of my life is over and it’s none of your business. Now if you’re done eating and prying into my life, how about you put up the wooden blinds I bought for your room. Seeing as you want to be helpful and all.”
Cutter Mountain Rendezvous Page 6
