“Aw hell, Connery doesn’t care,” Stan shouted. “He just wants to make money. And he’ll make about twenty loaded trucks a day’s worth if he’s allowed to go through with this.”
“Maybe he’s trusting the person gathering his information,” Dewey said. “That’s the person you need to find, to discover if anyone is manipulating facts.”
“Nobody is manipulating facts, Mr. Mitchell.”
The small crowd turned to the booming voice behind them. Jill’s mouth dropped. The man from the Navigator sauntered into the room, his confidence, his unwavering, piercing gaze that took everyone in, and his imposing good looks cowing all but the feistiest locals.
“Good evening, Jim,” Sam said. “You’re willing to admit to these good people that you, not Duncan Connery, are the foreman in charge of the Sandhurst Aggregate pit project?”
“I have no reason not to admit it.”
“I’d love to have you stand up and tell these good folks whether or not there’s any truth to the rumors they’ve been hearing.”
“I will be happy to answer any questions as honestly as I can.” Krieger’s voice no longer boomed but held an eerily calm reassurance. “I am in charge of the Sandhurst project. And I can tell you there is no manipulation of facts going on.”
“So, the projected output of the pit remains at the tonnage level our town council was told it would be six months ago?” Sam asked. “There’s no truth to the rumor that the amount of gravel taken on a daily, weekly, and monthly basis is actually going to double or triple, and increase the amount of waste product or the amount of heavy truck traffic through town?”
“Mayor Baker, anyone is welcome to visit the Connery offices and go over the paperwork. You contact me to set it up. Or name a date here and now.”
Krieger was too smooth, too confidant. He made Jill’s skin crawl for no other reason than he was a little too well-oiled. As if he’d come here to say these precise words—like a Storm Trooper relaying a message from the Empire.
The mayor opened the floor and attendees bombarded Krieger with good questions, which he fielded unhesitatingly without answering anything at all.
“He’s awfully good at diversion,” Chase whispered.
They hadn’t spoken much since the night in the barn. Tonight, Chase was a different man, tense with a warrior’s excitement, as if he knew how to fight battles just as well as he knew how to kiss a woman. The mixture made him even more enigmatic. More desirable.
Forty-five minutes later, the meeting broke up. To Jill’s surprise, Chase had a crowd of people around him before Krieger had left the building.
“You must be the motorcycle man Dewey’s been telling us about.” Gladdie shook his hand with her natural warm enthusiasm.
Chase smiled, perfectly comfortable. “And you’re one of The Sisters, Mrs… . ?”
“Gladdie,” she said, brushing off any formality. “I understand you work for Connery Construction?”
“Yes. My grandfather knows Duncan Connery. That’s how I came to get a job with him. I don’t know Mr. Krieger very well, however.”
“Nobody knows him very well.”
“Not too fast, Gladdie.” Stan Severson spoke over her head. “You’re new here, young man. Krieger might not be well liked, but he’s familiar adversary. You thinkin’ to play both ends against us, don’t.”
Chase regarded Stan solemnly but with a glint of amusement. “I appreciate the warning, but I promise you I’m no double agent.”
Stan harrumphed and walked away.
“Don’t mind him,” Gladdie said.
“I don’t know, Chase. I disagree with Stan.” To Jill’s shock, Gray Covey stepped up and clasped Chase’s hand. “I still believe what told you earlier. You should be our double agent. I think we need one more than ever.”
“Amen,” Gladdie replied. “I wouldn’t trust Jim Krieger were he planted in my garden up to his dang neck.”
Chase laughed and clapped Gray’s arm. “Tell you what. If I decide on a breakin, I’ll call you two for backup.”
Jill still got a little tongue-tied around Gray. She’d never quite gotten used to the fairy tale surrounding Kim Stadtler’s mom, Abby, marrying the famous singer. On the other hand, Gray was the reason Jill had faith her town would accept Chase, too. They’d made Gray one of their own, taking his fame and the media circus that sometimes surrounded him in stride. If they could protect him, they could forgive Chase working for Connery Construction.
She had.
Disregarding their new pact to be friends only, she smoothed the front of the plaid button-down shirt he wore open over a plain white T-shirt and mimicked herself. “Look at you, making inroads into town already.”
For the first time he looked uncomfortable. “No, ma’am. I’m just trying to blend in.”
Chapter Fifteen
CHASE HAD NEVER been so happy to start a job as he was Monday morning. The weekend had turned into an exhausting marathon of hiding the dog, fighting disappointment over Dewey’s coil find not fitting the Triumph, and avoiding the weird, newfound notoriety in town. Word of his arrival and job with Connery had spread, and he was suddenly far more noticed in Kennison Falls than he wanted to be. Gray’s double-agent joke wasn’t funny any longer.
Work on Bridge Creek’s new arena began without fanfare. Chase appreciated his new boss Jeff Rigby’s patient approach to teaching, and picked up the routine easily. Lunch hour came quickly.
Minnesotans thought eighty degrees hot for the beginning of June, but after ten sticky Memphis summers, Chase found it downright balmy. He and his new coworkers settled around the base of a tree near the work site and scarfed their lunches like teenagers. The boring peanut butter sandwich, the quart of milk, and the four cookies he’d packed into a cooler that morning weren’t nearly enough, which surprised him. It had been years since he’d manually labored hard enough to crave huge lunches.
Genuine surprise swept through him when Angel jogged unexpectedly around the barn and yipped at the sight of him. After only a week, the black-and-white dog looked shinier and healthier, and she’d attached herself to Jill and Chase as if they’d raised her from a pup. Angel’s presence meant Jill was also around. After letting the dog enthusiastically add the other three men to her list of admirers, Chase followed her around the barn toward the other arena.
The first person he met was Jamie Barnes seated in her chair outside the arena. She shaded her eyes against the glare of sunshine and grinned when she recognized him.
“Hi!”
“Are you banished?” He sat in the grass beside her and checked his watch. He still had thirty of his forty-five minutes.
“No, I left.” Jamie’s eyes grew stormy. “Becky is such a butthead I can’t stand to watch.”
“I’m sorry. What’s with Becky today?”
“Jill called and asked if we wanted to come early. I’d have jumped up and down but Becky’s just snotty. She does things wrong on purpose to make Mom mad.”
“She wants to make your mom mad?”
Jamie shrugged. “Becky hates that Mom’s making her do this. She’s never been into sports, even though she used to like horses. She’s the brainy one. I liked softball and gymnastics, and I used to horseback ride and stuff.”
“I’ll bet you’re still athletic.”
“Not exactly.” She cast her eyes downward.
“Jamie, I’m not tryin’ to mess with you …” Chase caught the street slang, and a finger of guilt poked into his consciousness. How often had he begun dealing with a young person using those words? “I just know there are a lot of sports for kids who think they’re stuck in a chair.”
Jamie said nothing, and Chase kicked himself for opening his mouth. He couldn’t have things two ways. He’d left the clinic behind for this very reason—to keep from getting involved with any more of the world’s Jamies.
Or Tianas.
His brow beaded with sudden sweat. He’d kept her face from his memory for days, but now it
came to him in full detail followed by the image of her slender, knobby little body—so broken, forever stilled.
Let her go, Chase. It’s over now. You’ve done all you can.
“I keep busy. I take piano and clarinet lessons.” Jamie’s voice overrode his brother’s words and dragged him mercifully back into the present. “We go way up to Minneapolis to a place called Courage Center. There’s cool stuff there, but I wish there was a clinic and activities closer. I don’t like riding in the car for hours.”
Although it went against his very nature to squelch the desire to help, Chase kept his response noncommittal. “Can’t blame you for that. So, think about what you really want to do.”
“I wish I could ride.”
“Even that’s not impossible. You never know.” Did he catch a flash of surprise in the girl’s eyes? Hope? It pained his broken heart to drop the subject, but he did. “How long has Becky been in her lesson?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“If you don’t want to go back in there, we could take a quick walk before I need to get back to work, check out the place. I’ll ask your mom if it’s okay.”
With Anita’s permission they visited paddocks and wandered through the main barn, making easy conversation for the next fifteen minutes. When the terrain grew uneven, Jamie allowed Chase to push her chair. Most of the time, however, she preferred to manage it herself, proving her athleticism was still intact. At last they stopped at the paddock nearest the arena. Jamie craned her neck trying to see over a cross board in her sightline, and he knelt to her level.
“Good thing these fences aren’t made of lead, hey Supergirl?”
“Huh?”
“You wouldn’t be able to see through them.”
She rolled her eyes, but when two horses ambled slowly toward them, Jamie’s scoffing turned to giggles. She straightened in her chair and arched her back to reach for one front pocket of her jeans.
“You still have sugar left?” Chase asked incredulously. She’d been materializing lumps from her pockets the whole trip.
“Sure.”
“Here, lemme angle your hotrod chair better.”
Jamie giggled, and Chase swung her sideways. She held the sugar out to one quizzical mare, who lipped up the cube, chewed it noisily, and allowed her forehead to be scratched as she nosed for more goodies. Jamie tugged on her forelock and rubbed the flicking ears. Leaning forward, she kissed the horse quickly before it yanked its head away.
“They smell so good.”
“Whoa.” Chase wrinkled his nose.
“Don’t you like horses?”
“Oh, I like horses fine. Never got into smellin’ ’em for the heck of it.”
“I don’t wash my hands for a long time after I pet them. Then I can pretend I have one of my own.”
“Jamie, we’re gonna have to find y’all some normal friends.” He checked his watch. He had fifteen minutes. “We should go see if your sister’s finished.”
They were in time to watch Rebecca dismount and begin the tedious walking-out process. Her dispassionate features gave no clue as to how the lesson had gone, but the plastic smile on Jill’s face told plenty. His heart reacted to her as it always had, and he regretted holding back from her.
Jamie wheeled toward her mother, and Chase took a seat on one of the folding chairs.
“Having fun?” he called quietly.
Jill’s face cleared. “Hey! Are you ever a welcome sight.”
“Sounds like things maybe went smooth as river rapids.”
Jill sent a guarded glance toward Jamie, and lowered her voice. “I’m going to kill her.”
“I’m sorry, honey.”
Rebecca finished her circuits grumbling. When Jill gave the okay to quit, the girl exited, and three minutes later wielded a brush carelessly over Roy’s coat. “God, you gotta pamper these stupid horses,” she said angrily.
Jamie, at the big gray’s head, glowered. “Just grow up, Becky.”
Becky glared right back. “Who’s talking to you?”
“You should realize how lucky you are and quit being such a biatch to everyone. Especially the horse. What did he do to you, anyway?”
“Shut up. It’s not you being forced to do all this stupid work.”
“Yeah? I wish it was me.” Tears glistened at the corners of Jamie’s eyes. “You’re so ungrateful. I’d give anything to ride that horse, and all you can do is complain.”
“Oh, listen to that,” hissed Rebecca. “Always making people feel sorry for poor wheelchair Jamie.”
“Girls …” Anita cautioned, far too mildly in Chase’s opinion.
“I hate you.” Jamie spun her chair and rolled angrily away.
Anita sighed, stroked Rebecca’s arm, and watched Jamie wheel out of the building. Fury sparked in Jill’s eyes.
“Go talk to Jamie, Mrs. Barnes,” she said with amazing calm. When the woman left, Jill whirled to Rebecca, her voice brittle. “You, young lady, owe your sister an apology.”
For once Rebecca showed true emotion. “Why? Because she’s a poor little thing stuck in a wheelchair? Because you feel sorry for her like everyone else does?”
“Of course not. Because she was right. You have been on your worst behavior all morning. Maybe there’s a reason for that, maybe we can talk about it. Whatever you want. But I won’t let you take out your frustrations on the people and the animals around you.”
“Why don’t you just let me quit lessons, then? They weren’t my idea in the first place, and I hate them.”
Chase watched the anger drain from Jill’s face. “You aren’t doing jail time, sweetheart, you can quit whenever you want. But it isn’t lessons you hate. I don’t know what it really is, but let me tell you what I do know. Under that anger I see potential—and not only for riding. Now, I mean it, you never have to come back again, but you do have to finish this lesson. And that includes apologizing to your sister.”
After Rebecca had given an emotionless apology, Chase pulled Jill aside to say good-bye.
“What a pair,” he said. “Hard to believe they’re sisters, much less twins.”
“Oh, I can believe it.” A flash of irritation crossed her face and realization dawned—like a two-by-four across Chase’s brow. There was nothing frivolous about Jill’s connection to Jamie or Rebecca. “Thing is, I don’t know what to do with her,” Jill continued. “Even my sister at least responds to the animals.”
“She seems like an impossible case, honey, but she’s not. She has some walls, but you’re doing fine. Look, I hate to leave when Miss Becky has you down, but I have to get back. First day and all. Can we finish this later?”
“Of course, I’m sorry. How’s it going?”
“Good. The crew is friendly. I’m out of shape, though.”
“Poor baby.”
Her impish teasing returned, and his attraction slammed him and made him take a determined step back. “How late do you work tonight? Need me to take the dog?”
“I’m done by six-thirty or seven. She can stay.”
“Would you consider coming with me afterward and showing me someplace I can grab a couple things for work and some groceries? Dinner’d be on me.”
“You’re offering food? Sold! We could go to Northfield. There are bigger stores and a nice Chinese place.”
“My favorite.”
“Then it’s a date. I’ll tell Mother not to expect us home.”
A date, he thought as he headed back to work. He wished she hadn’t used the word. He wished he hadn’t secretly intended exactly that.
The evening was sunny and still hot when Chase, Jill, and Angel strolled to Northfield’s charming downtown center with a heavy brown bag of food. Park benches ringed the grassy triangle, and an actual popcorn wagon did brisk after-dinner business. Two young boys on inline skates thwipped past. Locals held hands and window-shopped from storefront to quaint storefront; children ran freely along the main street.
It was absurdly different from the worl
d Chase had left. Marian-Lee Avenue, Memphis, was to Division Street, Northfield, what a porcupine was to a pussycat. There was probably a tough element in Northfield—there was in every town. Here, however, it was unwelcome in the open. In Chase’s part of Memphis the good people hid while gangs ruled evenings like this. On Division Street life turned at the hands of the seasons. On Marian-Lee Avenue life often turned at the point of a switchblade. Those differences brought home ever more painfully to Chase the reasons he’d left Tennessee.
They settled onto one of the benches, balancing cartons and napkins. Jill delved into the bag for egg rolls. “We probably should have gotten all finger food for eating without a table.”
With her first bite, egg roll crumbs cascaded down Jill’s shirtfront. He laughed and brushed the crumbs from her shirt. The simple gesture was way too intimate, and it sobered him. “This is a nice town, too. It’s …”
“Midwestern?”
“Non-violent.”
“That’s kind of heavy for a nice night.”
“Memphis has some pretty rough edges. In a town like this, a person could almost forget.”
“Hey. Is everything okay?”
“Of course. I just never intended to come to Minnesota and stay. But after a week I’m afraid you were right—I’m getting sucked in.”
“Like with Jamie Barnes?” She bit again and Angel went after crumbs on the ground.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re smitten with her. And she thinks you walk on water.”
“You’re crazy.” But she wasn’t, and he sighed. “Okay, it’s true. She does get to me. She’s the kind of kid who’ll never tell you what’s really going on inside. She’ll smile, she’ll adapt, she won’t make waves. At least she yells at her sister.”
Jill’s eyes widened. “You’re serious.”
“Jamie and I got to talk a little today. She’s the horse-crazy one. She meant it about trading places with her sister.” He worried the inside of his lip and then asked, “Do you know if there are there facilities around here for handicapped riders?”
“There are a couple of organizations.”
“Or. Could you teach her?”
She chewed a moment on the nail of one slender finger. “I wonder.”
Rescued by a Stranger Page 17
