“I’m going to sleep out here on your sofa tonight.”
She nodded but remained silent.
“Want some tea? Or something stronger? I’ve got Tequila at my house.”
She shook her head and reached up to unwrap the towel. When her wet hair fell around her shoulders, Trevor itched to sink his hands into its silky depths. Instead, he took the damp towel from her and hung it on the back of a chair at the kitchen table then sat down next to her. He clasped her hands. She did not look at him, but neither did she pull away, bringing an inward smile. Silas was right, she wasn’t as hateful as she pretended.
“What happened?”
Ketra shuddered then closed her eyes and sucked in a ragged breath. A knock on the door startled her. Jerking her hands away, she wrapped her arms around her waist and stared at the front door with frightened eyes. Trevor opened the door for Rocky to enter.
“Where is he?” Trevor demanded.
“At my house. With Silas. How’s Ket?” He studied his niece huddled on the couch.
“I don’t know.” Trevor hoped the older man wouldn’t notice his soggy underwear sitting on the floor.
Rocky sat on the arm of the sofa and curled an arm around his niece’s shoulders. “Kettie, I need to know what you want me to do. I hate to call the Sheriff, but I will if you want me to. It’s your decision.” When she didn’t answer he continued. “I sure would hate to press charges against Brooks, but I know what he did was wrong. The question is, does he?”
Ketra rocked forward and back, her focus on the flames dancing in the fireplace.
“Tell me, honey,” Rocky coaxed, “what do you want me to do? I’ll take him to the Sheriff right now if that’s what you want.”
Ketra stopped rocking and shrugged. Trevor leaned against the front door watching the exchange between uncle and niece. Tears coursed down her cheeks, but she remained silent. Something deeper was happening, but he couldn’t decipher the clues.
“If I make the report, you don’t have to press charges, but there’ll be a record just the same,” Rocky explained. “Otherwise, I’m taking him to Sadie’s for a couple of days until you decide what you want to do.”
“Why can’t I just be nice to someone without having to pay for it in some way?” Ketra blurted.
Looking defeated, Rocky sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “I don’t know, honey.”
“Is it because I’m so small? Is that why? I’m an easy target?” Ketra was directing her questions to the fire snapping in the fireplace.
Trevor massaged the back of his neck, wanting to punch someone.
“Ketra….”
Trevor knew that Rocky was searching for some reasonable explanation, something to say to her to ease the pain, the same way he’d searched earlier for soothing words that might make a difference.
“I didn’t do anything to anybody, and they hurt me,” she said.
“I know they did,” Rocky replied.
They? Brooks had been the only other person he’d seen in the tack room when he’d arrived. Was someone else involved or did her statement extend to something that happened beyond the immediate situation? Had some other guy victimized Ketra in the same manner, somebody she sympathized with, who took advantage of her kindness? Trevor cleared his throat. “Want me to take him in to the Sheriff?”
“No,” Rocky said for his ears only. “That’s a really bad idea. You’re up to your neck already in Phoenix. You stay out of this completely.”
“Ket,” Rocky’s voice softened, “I’m going to take Brooks to Sadie’s for the night. We’ll talk more about this tomorrow, okay?”
Ketra hadn’t moved, but Trevor sensed the shock wearing off. Her posture changed. Her eyes lost the glassy appearance. “I don’t want to talk about it at all. Ever again.”
“You can’t keep bottling stuff up inside, Ket. It’ll kill you.” Rocky patted her shoulder. “Brooks isn’t Kyle. You know that. It’s not the same situation, but I understand how you feel. No matter what you decide to do, I’ll support your decision.”
Ketra nodded.
So that’s why she’s afraid of me! Kyle assaulted her and I’m lucky enough to look like the sick bastard! He sighed, he’d been an idiot. Maybe he should see that psychologist again after all, as Denny’d suggested. His perception was all screwed up. He’d handled this situation very badly.
“Get some rest, honey. Everything will be okay.” Rocky stood and looked down at his niece. “Would you rather stay at my house tonight?”
“No,” she sniffed. “I just don’t want to see him again. Ever.”
Rocky nodded. “Of course. I’ll take care of it.” Rocky moved next to Trevor and laid a hand on his shoulder, asking in a hushed voice, “You’re planning on staying here tonight, aren’t you?”
Trevor glanced at Ketra over Rocky’s shoulder and nodded.
Rocky tightened his grip on Trevor’s shoulder. “I’m trusting you.”
Anger simmered at Rocky’s insinuation that he’d take advantage of his niece. But given the circumstances, he understood why. He shifted his gaze to Rocky. They stood for a few minutes, sizing the other up. Rocky removed his hand from Trevor’s shoulder. “You remind me so much of your dad. Bad ass one minute then all caring and sweet the next.” He opened the door and glanced back at Ketra. He frowned, shot another worried glance at Trevor, sighed heavily, then closed the door behind him.
Thankful that Rocky trusted him to care for her, albeit reluctantly, he watched Ketra for several moments. She stared at the fire, lost in another place, unaware of his presence. He sat next to her, not touching or speaking, just letting the crackling fire offer consolation.
“Why don’t you try to get some sleep,” he finally said.
Ketra whipped her head toward him. “Stay away from me.”
Stunned by the violent mood swing, he leaned away. “I thought you might feel safer if I stayed on the couch tonight….”
She bolted off the sofa, grabbed the fireplace poker and started swinging it at him. “Get out. I hate you. I never want to see you again.”
Trevor rose from the couch, not taking his eyes off her. He moved with slow stealth around the couch, trying to get a feel for the extent of her ire.
She threw the poker at him. He ducked. It clattered on the floor behind him. When he peeked at her from behind the couch, she reached for a piece of firewood to hurl at him.
“Don’t be nice to me,” she said with unexpected ferocity. “Go away and leave me alone. Stay the hell away from me.”
Recognizing the true reason for her outburst, he stuck his head around the side of the sofa and raised his hands up into the air. “Don’t throw anything,” he said with practiced calm. “I’m leaving.”
Ketra stood in front of the fireplace quivering with rage, wild fright glittering in her eyes. “Get out. Go. Go away. I hate you.” She stuttered, running out of steam with each pronouncement.
Trevor advanced toward the front door, turning to face her when he was almost there. “I know you hate me and that’s good.” He engaged his mild negotiating voice, the one he used when talking to a frightened child or someone threatening to jump off a bridge. “Because if you were to be nice to me…then I would have to attack you…and neither of us wants that. So…” he reached to pick up his hat and wet underwear, “we’ll just go on hating each other.” He straightened, hat in hand. “Everything will be fine…and you won’t get hurt again.”
He paused with his hand on the door knob, watching for any sign that she wanted him to stay. “Isn’t that right?”
She was shaking again, and tears cascaded down her cheeks.
“Or,” he said, laying the hat on the table beside the door, “I could hold you and prove to you that not all guys are bastards. That some guys can be nice and will never hurt you, no matter what.” He took a couple of steps towa
rd her. She didn’t retreat.
“Ketra?”
Violent tremors shook her body. He pulled her into his protective embrace. stroking her back and smoothing her hair until she wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him. He held her while she wept. When her tears were spent, he carried her to her bed and adjusted the covers under her chin. She closed her eyes and when he was sure she was asleep, he feathered a kiss across her lips and lay down on her sofa.
As embers dyed in the fireplace, he replayed the night’s events. A major battle had been overcome in winning Ketra’s trust, but why in God’s name did that matter? The tug at his heartstrings, and an overwhelming desire to protect her and make her happy, seemed of utmost importance. He drifted asleep, puzzling over his confused emotions and the exact opposite direction he was headed from his original plan.
Chapter Seventeen
Trevor rose from Ketra’s cramped sofa and returned to his own cabin. Yellow and orange ribbons of light spiraled upward on the horizon, a colorful labyrinth woven through the gray clouds clinging to the mountaintops in the distance. While anxious to get up the mountain and herd the cattle back, apprehension about leaving Ketra alone, even for a few hours, threaded through his body. Rocky should be back around noon with the empty trailer, assuming there were no problems getting to the rendezvous point or unloading the horses.
He frowned and let the drapes fall back across the window. Soon the ranch would be bustling with men eager to head out. He took a drink of strong coffee and checked his watch. He knew his boss would be awake despite the early hour.
“Where are you?” Denny greeted.
“Out of sight. For now.”
“You haven’t left the country, have you?”
Trevor tensed. “Jesus, Denny, do I have to?”
“This whole damn thing has turned into a royal bollix. Since you disappeared, the Feds have stopped talking to me, IA has stopped talking to me, and now the IRS has joined the game. Looks like we have at least one bad cop and some wrong information. There’s zero cooperation from the Feds and a dozen or so pesky reporters, all making speculations, none of them good. The office is crawling with badges and cameras, but instead of everyone working together, it’s a pissing contest between the suits who’d rather push their weight around than get this thing figured out.”
Trevor ran a hand through his hair and stared at the ceiling. “How’s Noah? He gonna make it?”
Denny blew out a breath. “He’s hanging in there. The Feds won’t leave him alone and let him rest. IA wants answers.”
“They puttin’ pressure on you?”
“So far there’s no reason to. I was out of town when this went down, remember? How could I possibly know anything?”
Trevor smiled at Denny’s half-truth. Technically, he had been out of town, but Scottsdale is only ten minutes from Phoenix. “IA doesn’t buy into lame stories. They’ve got to know something at this point. They got anything on the vic yet?”
“Just that he was off duty and had no authorization to be at our location, an area well out of his jurisdiction. Why he was there, and in uniform is still a mystery. His captain is cooperating, but it’s pretty obvious he doesn’t know anything. I think he’s telling the truth.”
“Someone checking his phone records, e-mails?”
“Someone is. They’re not letting me do anything.”
“Shit.”
“Something’s going to turn up pretty soon. According to Hawkins, people are working on this round the clock. No one likes unresolved cop shootings, especially the media. They’re like piranhas on raw meat right now.”
Trevor finished his coffee in a single gulp, scalding his tongue in the process. Air whistled between his teeth when he winced.
“You okay?”
“I just called to say I’ll be unreachable for a couple of days,” Trevor rasped.
“All right. But try to avoid public places where a camera might catch up with you,” Denny warned.
“I’ll be out of cell range. Where I’m going there’s not a chance in hell a reporter will be around. I’m lying low because you asked me to, but you know this isn’t my style. If you or Noah need me, I’m not far away. This whole business is bullshit and I don’t give a fuck what IA or the media says. If it’s not resolved soon, I’m going to come down there and blow up bullshit mountain. I know what I saw. That shot to Noah’s head was no accident.”
“Just calm down and give me a little more time to sort out the good guys from the bad. I’ll be in touch when the time’s right and I know who we can trust. Let me know when you’re back in cell range.”
Trevor disconnected and pocketed the phone. He put his empty cup in the kitchen sink, dug his duffle bag from the back of the closet, took out several guns, boxes of ammunition and a small scope. Weighing a couple of smaller semi-automatic pistols in his hands, he decided on the smallest one, loaded a full magazine, clicked the safety into place and laid it on the bed. He slipped another magazine into the chamber of a larger pistol and tucked it into the waistband at the back of his jeans. He didn’t think he’d need it, but old habits die hard.
He wanted to check on Ketra one more time before moving out. He needed to go now, before too many people might notice him at her door. He pulled on his jacket and slipped the smaller gun into the pocket. With hat in hand, he crossed the yard separating their houses. He tapped on her door, hoping she hadn’t left for the barn yet. At his second knock, the door cracked open.
Dressed but barefoot, she filled the doorway, a cup of coffee infused with cinnamon or a similar spice in her hands. A clean bandage adhered to her forehead. Sadness lurked in the depths of her brilliant blue eyes, underscored with dark circles. Her rigid posture and scowl matched the mood of the weather.
“Can I come in for a minute?”
She hesitated but swung the door open. When he entered she leaned back against the closed door.
“How you doing this morning?”
She shrugged and took a drink from the steaming mug.
“My offer to take you a doctor still stands if you—”
“I don’t want to talk about last night and I don’t need to go to a doctor. I’m fine.” Her eyes were trained on him, her body poised to flee if he moved the wrong way. He stared back at her until she added, “Was there something else you wanted?”
Trevor cleared his throat. “Yeah.” Approaching with slow measured steps so he wouldn’t spook her, he took the small semi-automatic pistol from his jacket pocket. “This gun is loaded. All you have to do is release the safety.” He demonstrated how to move the mechanism so that the trigger would engage. “It’s like a camera, just point and shoot.”
She gaped at the weapon in his hand.
“I’ll leave it right here.” He re-positioned the safety and laid the gun on a small table by the front door. “I want you to use it if anyone threatens you.”
Ketra stood motionless looking at the gun.
“I’m serious. Here’s my cell phone number.” He placed a piece of paper into the palm of her hand and curled her fingers around it. “I can’t promise there’ll be reception, but you can send me a text, or try calling. I’ll come straight here. You have my word on that.”
He held her small hand, warm from holding the coffee cup. He wanted to hold her entire body but was afraid of losing her fragile trust.
She said nothing but kept her hand in his.
“Ketra?” He squeezed her hand, wishing she’d look at him. “Nobody would blame you if you took the day off.” He smiled and leaned into her, playfully bumping her with his hip. “Play hooky, go see a movie, go shopping, get your nails done, or whatever it is you ladies like to do.”
She sighed and stepped away from him. “Horses still need to eat, and stalls still need to be cleaned.”
Trevor frowned at his unsuccessful attempt to cajole her.
Trevor smiled. Here was the former Ketra, the girl he was really starting to like. “I guess I should add that you absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, shoot me with my own gun.”
“Then you’d better leave.”
“Try not to miss me too much.” He winked and opened the door but turned back on the porch. “I expect you to call me if there’s a problem. I’ll paddle your cute little butt if you don’t.”
“Get off my porch, or I’ll paddle your….”
When her face flushed crimson, he threw his head back and laughed, a genuine gut-constricting laugh that exploded from him like champagne spewing from an uncorked bottle. Waggling his eyebrows, he said, “Any time you want to spank me, honey, is fine with me.”
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d released such an intense, powerful outburst of anything except anger. It felt good. It felt right.
Ketra pushed the door closed, but it didn’t click shut. He smiled. She’d left it open a crack to watch the activity in the yard. A small group of cowhands mingled near the barn. So much for no one noticing him on Ketra’s porch.
A long stock trailer backed close to the barn. Each of Rocky’s hands had a horse ready to load. Trevor stopped at his truck and took out a rifle from behind the back seat. Before heading into the barn, he stole a glance at Ketra peeking through the crack in the door. He winked. The door clicked shut. Another smile puffed his cheeks.
Trevor hooked a halter and lead rope on the stall door of the buckskin mare he had ridden his first day at the ranch. He tossed a saddle and blanket over one shoulder and led the horse to the trailer. Acknowledging the other wranglers with a nod, but not stopping to talk, he returned to the barn for his gear and rifle.
On Common Ground Page 11
