Return to the Black Hills

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Return to the Black Hills Page 10

by Debra Salonen


  He looked at Cade and nodded as if he’d asked, not her.

  “So who did? Marsh? Eerik?”

  He shook his head.

  That left only one team member who was in Sentinel Pass that morning. “Zane.”

  “I didn’t see him do anything, I swear. And I’m sure as hell not about to say anything to the cops.”

  “Why?”

  He took a step back. “Are you nuts? Don’t you know? Zane is a loose cannon.” He looked at Cade, pleadingly. “I once saw him crush some drunk’s nose—not break, crush—because the guy was wearing a political T-shirt that Zane disagreed with. He went over, picked a fight, then slammed the guy’s face into the wall before the man could throw his first punch.”

  Jessie had heard that story many times but didn’t know if it was fact or hype. “He has a reputation for being volatile, but he’s my friend. We’re co-captains. Why would he do something to hurt me and jeopardize the team’s chances in Japan?”

  “I don’t know. All I can say is the night before last I was in the hotel bar, nursing my broken heart.” He tossed a pointed look at her. “I was trying to work up the nerve to confront you. But when I saw you come in with your sister, I gave up and went to my room.”

  “And spent the night plotting how to get your revenge on Jessie for dumping your sorry ass,” Cade theorized.

  J.T. shook his head. “No. I went to sleep. I wasn’t even gonna go do the show until Zane started pounding on my door. He said you’d changed the script because you needed a solo for your audition tape. He told me he was taking off as soon as the tower was up and the ropes were in place. He said if I really wanted to impress you, I should take his place and prove to you that you weren’t invincible. Everybody needs somebody, he said.”

  “Why did you run away?” Cade asked.

  “I’m not stupid, man. I knew they’d be looking for a scapegoat. An accident is one thing, but when I heard somebody mention the word booby-trapped, I started thinking about your rollover. What if that wasn’t an accident? I was on that set, too. Sooner or later, somebody was bound to point a finger at me, given your problems with my mother.”

  Jessie froze. She’d been saying for weeks that something wasn’t right about her accident, but nobody was listening. “You think my rollover happened that way on purpose?”

  “I don’t know what to think. But if Zane’s behind either of them—” his voice dropped to a whisper, and he looked over his shoulder theatrically “—then I could be in big trouble for even talking to you. Mom wants me to come home, but the cops said I have to stick around.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  He looked down as if embarrassed. “I met a girl. Last night. In Custer. She told me if I needed a place to bunk, her roommate just moved out. You know how it is, Jess. Mention Sentinel Passtime and suddenly everybody wants to be your friend.”

  Jessie didn’t know that at all, but several of the guys on the team bragged about making conquests based on their association with the show.

  “And you’re telling us you don’t have any idea where this Zane guy is?” Cade asked, drawing them back on point.

  J.T. pulled a face. “No. I came here to warn you, Jessie. You need to watch your back. I don’t know what Zane’s game is all about. I honestly can’t say for sure that he did something to your ropes, but you need to be on your toes.” He nudged her crutch. “And that’s not that easy when you’re a gimp.”

  Cade made a low sound that came out like a warning growl.

  J.T. took a step back. “I gotta go, Jessie. I’m sorry. Okay? About everything. Mom. Us. Kamikaze. I know you didn’t throw the game on purpose, but Mom was so pissed off I didn’t dare say anything. You know how she gets.”

  Jessie did. Dar’s rages never lasted for long, but they were the only thing about being her business partner that Jessie had had reservations about. Luckily, Dar had never turned that fury on her. Until now.

  “And for the record, I didn’t ask you out only because Mom pushed me to.” J.T. gave her one last lingering stare, then left.

  She didn’t acknowledge his apology or even say goodbye. They stood beside Cade’s truck and watched him disappear around the side of the building.

  “Are you ready to go home?”

  Jessie leaned heavily on her crutches and let out a sigh. “Are you sure you want me to? I feel like…what’s that bird called? The one nobody wants around because it brings bad luck?”

  Cade let out a soft snort. “Get in the car. Do you need a boost?”

  “No,” she snapped.

  His grin told her he’d provoked her on purpose.

  They were about ten miles down the road when he said, “Albatross. That bird’s called an albatross. They don’t exist this far inland.”

  She looked down. There was a spot of root-beer froth on her blouse. She ignored it, trying to focus instead on why Zane—a man she considered her friend—would try to hurt her.

  “I know you don’t know me well, but do you think I’m horribly self-absorbed? Friendless? So obtuse I wouldn’t even know it if someone close to me tried to kill me?”

  “I think you’re very likable. You’re brave and kind and considerate. And nobody deserves to have violence inflicted on them. Nobody.” The rock-solid firmness of his declaration made her look at him.

  “What if he’s not done trying to hurt me?”

  “So far, the guy sounds like an opportunistic coward. He won’t come onto the ranch, but I’ll put a guy on the gate if that would ease your mind.”

  “No. That’s not what I meant. You’ve already been super good to me. To Remy and me,” she corrected. “But you have a daughter to think about. And a business. I don’t want to cause you any problems.”

  “Then don’t leave. That’s the best thing you can do at the moment. I mean that. Knowing Shiloh isn’t walking all the way home from the bus stop will be a huge load off my mind. Especially if there’s some violent nutcase on the loose. Okay?”

  “I can see your point. At least for the time being. But I reserve the right to leave at a moment’s notice if the threat changes in any way. For your and Shiloh’s sake,” she added.

  “Okay. On one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Don’t tell Shiloh I took you to the Dairy Barn without her.”

  She looked at her shirt again. Then pulled a tissue from her purse, spit on it and began to rub away the evidence. She would live up to her part of the agreement to the best of her ability. That’s what she did. Even if her ex-business partner tried to claim otherwise.

  They drove the rest of the way home in silence. Cade wasn’t sure if Jessie was hiding behind her closed eyelids or if she’d actually dozed off. Not that he blamed her for either choice.

  A guy she liked well enough to date accuses her of ruining his mother’s life and suggests another friend might well be trying to hurt her for some unknown reason. Nobody liked to have their life choices scrutinized under the microscope of hindsight.

  He wondered if he’d made a mistake insisting she stay. Shiloh came first, of course. And having someone take her to the bus stop and pick her up after school eliminated the chance that she might become a target.

  Maybe living so far out gave him a false sense of security. He’d been surprised to see the gatehouse Buck had built a few years back. “We had some bold and very stupid rustlers in the area,” Buck had explained. The building still had a working intercom system.

  Maybe he’d add a night watch to the duty rotation. Just until Hank figured out if this Zane guy was an ongoing threat or an opportunist with his own agenda. Either way, Cade meant what he’d said to Jessie.

  Stay. Because he took care of creatures—like Sugar, the little raccoon—and people like Jessie who were vulnerable and needed help? Or was it because he’d spent a large chunk of their time at the Dairy Barn wanting to kiss her? Or, more specifically, lick the tiny remnant of root-beer froth off the side of her mouth before he kissed her.
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  He glanced at the dashboard clock. It was still early. The days were getting longer and the weather report that morning predicted it would warm up nicely by late afternoon. Maybe he’d open the pool for his guests.

  Correction: his tenants.

  The word made him frown. Then he shrugged. He and Jessie were adults. They were smart enough—worldly enough—to keep their rental agreement separate from any sort of social interaction that might come up.

  Shiloh, on the other hand, was a consideration he needed to take into account before he acted on the attraction he felt for Jessie. She knew he dated, but usually when he gave in to one of his pals and went out on a blind date, he downplayed the significance for Shiloh’s sake. And, so far, he’d never brought any of his dates home for Shiloh to meet.

  He glanced sideways at his sleeping passenger. Maybe he might be getting ahead of himself. He didn’t know for certain that Jessie felt the same little zing he felt. They’d known each other only a couple of days. But they did have all summer. And there was the pool.

  Was he curious about her scars?

  Yes. He was curious about her and this fire was certainly a big event in her life. How could he not be?

  But just because she got in the water didn’t mean she’d show him her scars. There was only one way to find out.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CADE WAS PULLING INTO the driveway when his phone rang. Even before he looked at the display, he figured it was either Remy or Shiloh, since the turquoise Toyota was nowhere to be seen.

  “Hi, Daddy, it’s me. Remy took me to lunch, and I was wondering if you’d mind if her and me—I mean, she and I—went to a movie before we bought groceries. The new Miley Cyrus movie is playing. It’s PG-13.”

  You’re not thirteen, he almost said. But that would have come off as so completely lame and controlling he was glad he managed to choke back the words. “What time does it start?”

  “Fifteen minutes. We drove past the theater to check it out before calling.”

  “Are you sure Remy wants to go?”

  He heard her put the question to Remy.

  “Sure,” she called out. “Beats watching Jessie hobble around, grumbling like a bear with a thorn in its paw.”

  “Did you hear that, Daddy? I didn’t twist her arm or anything.”

  “Sure. Fine. But tell her I’ll pay her back when she gets home. And, by the way, I’m going to open the pool. You two can take a dip later if—” he paused significantly “—your homework is all done.”

  “It’s done. It’s done. Cool. We gotta go get our tickets, Daddy. Thank you.”

  Jessie had undone her seat belt but was still sitting in the cab of the truck, presumably listening to his side of the conversation. He gave her all the pertinent information, then asked, “That’s not a problem, is it? Was Remy picking up anything you needed right away?”

  She shook her head. She looked a little bit perkier after her micro-nap. “Bread. Coffee. Peanut butter. Fruit. At the moment, I’m still full from my float, so there’s no rush. Are you really opening the pool?”

  He got out. “Yeah. Do you know anything about filters and pumps and chemicals? I’ve been meaning to read the literature Buck left for me, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”

  He hurried around the truck to help her out if she needed an extra hand. She didn’t. Not Jessie. She was the most independent woman he’d ever known.

  “The control for the cover is inside the pump room,” he said, pointing toward the far side of the house. “Do you want to take a look at it with me? Buck said the cover is supposed to be strong enough for a full-grown cow to walk across it.”

  She started to lead the way. “Bet that didn’t come cheap.”

  He followed behind her and couldn’t help noticing that the crutches didn’t impede her in any way. That’s the mark of a true athlete, he decided.

  “He said it was a gift for Shiloh. Kat’s boys are pretty excited about it, too.”

  She opened the exterior closet that also served as a storage shed for gardening tools. The smell of chlorine surprised him because Buck had claimed the pool was the saltwater type. “No chemicals for my grandkids,” he’d boasted.

  A plastic, ziplock bag containing the instruction manuals and a container of test strips was hanging right where Buck left it. “Apparently, this is the how-to bible.” He reached around her to snag it. “Do you know anything about pools?”

  “Marsh works for his brother’s pool-cleaning company when he’s between jobs. I’ve gone along a couple of times to check out the lifestyles of the rich and infamous. One thing I do know is technology has changed since I was a lifeguard.”

  He hit the clearly marked switch and the taut black cover began to retract. They moved poolside to check out the water. He was greatly relieved to see clear, sparkling water and not some murky mess. Hiring a pool service had been on his to-do list for much too long.

  “There’s the thermometer,” she said, pointing to a braided rope with something attached to it.

  Cade went down on one knee to haul it in. “Eighty. Sweet. The cover must act as a solar blanket, too,” he said. “That’ll make getting in a little easier.”

  He nodded toward her protective ankle brace. “Since that’s not a cast, do you want to get in?”

  She swallowed. “With you?”

  “Is that a problem?”

  She shook her head, but he could tell she wasn’t wildly thrilled by the idea. “If you’d rather not, I understand. I just thought I should check it out before Shiloh goes in.” He thought a moment then added, “She can swim, but not that well. If I’m not here to go in with her, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t let her swim alone.”

  She looked appalled by the idea. “The buddy system is a must if there’s no lifeguard on duty,” she said firmly. “And you want to think about posting a few rules as a reminder. Kids sometimes get caught up in what they’re doing and forget that water is dangerous.”

  He liked it that she didn’t trivialize his fears or think him overprotective. His father hadn’t agreed. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” Buck had said when they discussed the pool. “You didn’t have a nanny and you turned out fine.”

  If that had been meant as a compliment, Cade wasn’t buying it. “That’s a good idea. If I provide the paper and markers, maybe you and Shiloh could make one up. She likes art.” He paused. “She used to like art.”

  She didn’t comment on his addendum. “That’s a good way to reinforce the idea. And I’m not talking a lot of restrictions. Simply the basics. No running. No glass near the pool. And no diving in the shallow end.”

  He nodded, pleased to know she was on his side. “So…are you up for a quick dip?”

  She inhaled deeply and slowly let it out. “Sure. Why not? I’ll meet you back here in fifteen.”

  He made it in ten, but she was already in the water. Floating on her back. Whatever reticence he thought he’d detected apparently wasn’t due to modesty or embarrassment about her body. Her swimsuit was a two-piece bikini. Flame-red with white bands along the high-cut legs and low-cut neckline. Sexy as hell, but his gut told him the suit belonged to Remy. Why borrow her sister’s suit? he wondered. Did she forget to pack one? That didn’t seem likely, since they’d discussed the pool and her unlimited access to it in their email negotiations.

  “How’s the water?”

  Her feet drifted downward and she spread her arms to keep herself upright in the deep end. “Perfect. This is going to be great therapy for my ankle.”

  “Good.” He dropped his towel on the lawn then adjusted the waistband of his blue-and-white trunks— Dallas Cowboys colors. A gift from Shiloh. “Look out,” he warned. “Cannonball.”

  He took a running start and launched himself toward the middle of the pool. He hit with a loud crack. Water shot up his nose and he came up sputtering. “Damn. I think I forgot how to do this.”

  He looked around for Jessie. She’d ducked under the water an
d was swimming toward him, as graceful as a sea otter. She surfaced a few feet away, where the water was waist-deep.

  “Okay,” she said, motioning him closer. “Let’s get this over with.”

  A lump formed in his throat. This. He was pretty certain he knew what she intended to do. “Jessie, you don’t have to—”

  She didn’t let him finish. “I do, actually. It’s how I prefer it. On my terms.”

  She executed a half-pirouette, a little wobbly because of her ankle. “Everyone is curious when they hear about my burns. It’s human nature.”

  It took Cade a couple of seconds to make sense of what he was seeing. The smooth tanned skin he expected to match her arms and legs was blotchy red—like a bad birthmark—stitched together with gray-white lines. The texture was dimpled and puckered in places, as if someone had laid a wet rag across her back and allowed it to dry.

  The total area was much larger than he’d imagined. The pain this must have inflicted was too great to fully comprehend. A child, his brain kept repeating, mutely. She was just a child. Younger than Shiloh. A baby, really.

  “Does it hurt anymore?” he finally managed to ask, his chest tight.

  Her ponytail whipped side to side like a wet paint-brush. “No. Some parts are numb. Sometimes I’ll feel a pinch or stinging sensation if my bra strap hits just right.”

  “May I—” He had to swallow twice to get enough saliva in his mouth to finish the question.

  “Touch it? Yes.”

  She sounded so matter-of-fact, like a teacher presenting some sort of class project.

  Her skin was wet, glistening in the bright daylight, which might have served to make the scars look even more vivid and fresh. He tentatively touched a braided-looking ripple near the bottom of her right shoulder blade.

  He was relieved to find he wasn’t repulsed. “I should tell you. I grew up with an alcoholic father. I don’t shock easily.”

  She turned to face him. “I like you, Cade. I’ll be honest, if my life weren’t such a screwed-up mess at the moment, I’d be thinking…two single people…mutual attraction…what’s stopping us?”

  “But…?” he supplied, hearing the unspoken word.

 

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