Trouble in Paradise

by Hatcher, Robin Lee

  Nat stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, his vision blurred, his muscles aching. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much trouble falling asleep.

  Leaving Shayla the previous evening had been almost an impossibility. He would have willingly spent the night on the swing, holding her, kissing her, loving her.

  Yeah, it was true. He loved her. He loved those baggy T-shirts and old cutoffs she wore. He loved her unruly curls. He loved her slightly turned-up button nose and her soft, pliant lips. He loved the way she laughed, loved how she talked about her brothers and sisters, even when she was confessing her irritation with them, loved her dedication, her stubbornness, her willingness to try new things.

  So what was he going to do about it?

  There was only one thing he could do: Pray! Pray as he’d never prayed before.

  Following Christ, trusting in the Lord in every area of his life—it was something he was still learning to do. When he’d fallen in love with Joanne, he’d asked her to marry him because it was what he wanted. This time around, he needed to know marriage was what God wanted for him.

  He glanced down at the bathroom counter. A can of shaving cream and his razor. Toothpaste and toothbrush. An empty dispenser for three-ounce paper cups. That was it. That was everything on the counter.

  Marriage.

  He’d seen Shayla’s bathroom. Stuff everywhere.

  He chuckled. “Lord, I’d give her all the space she’d need, if she was my wife. I wouldn’t mind the clutter. I love her more than I thought possible. If she’s to be my wife, please help me know when and how I’m to do the asking.” He drew a deep breath. “And please tell her to say yes.”

  Chapter 11

  Chet looked around the room, desperation welling in his chest. The killer had been there. He'd taken True.

  First Neal.

  Then the sheriff.

  And now True.

  If she was dead…

  No, he wouldn’t let himself think that way. She meant too much to him now. In recent weeks he ’d discovered there was lots more to True Barry than most people realized. Her tough-gal persona was just that. A persona. Beneath that crusty shell beat a sentimental heart of pure gold.

  “If you harm one hair on her head," he muttered, “you won’t live long enough to regret it.” Trouble was, he didn’t know who he threatened.

  But True was no dumb bimbo, as he used to think. If she’d had any time at all before she was taken, she would have left him a clue as to the killer’s identity or where he’d taken her.

  “Lord, please show me,” he whispered. “Help me find True. Direct my steps and stop the man who’d do her harm.”

  His breathing slowed as calm washed over him.

  It was here, the clue to her whereabouts. He knew it as surely as he knew his own name.

  “Hang on, True. Don’t give up. Keep trusting God. I’ll get there as fast as I can.”

  * * *

  Peals of laughter broke into Shayla’s concentration. Which was just as well, she thought as she rolled her chair backward. She’d written nothing but tripe.

  “Would you like some lunch?” she heard Anne ask.

  But her sister wasn’t speaking to her. Ty had dropped by. Again.

  Shayla rose from the chair and walked toward the front door. The couple sat on the top step of the deck. Ty’s horse grazed in the shade of a nearby aspen.

  “How soon do you have to get back to work?” Anne asked him. “It’ll only take me a few minutes to whip up a couple of sandwiches and heat some soup.”

  “I reckon I got time enough.”

  Shayla pushed open the screen door. ‘Ty’s always got enough time to eat. Don’t you, Ty?”

  He looked over his shoulder. A sheepish grin served as his reply.

  Before Shayla could say anything else, she heard the sound of cantering hooves and looked to see Nat riding Blue up the drive. Her heart did its usual flutter at the sight of him.

  “Oh, good.” Anne rose from the step. “It’s a foursome. I’ll make extra sandwiches.” She hurried inside.

  Ty stood. “I’ll give her a hand.” He followed Anne into the cabin.

  Nat brought Blue to a halt. “I thought I’d find Ty over here.” He dismounted, then looked up at her from beneath the brim of his hat “Glad he is. Gave me an excuse to come see you in the middle of a workday.”

  Her pulse tripped, then quickened.

  “How’s the writing going?” He climbed the steps toward her.

  She shrugged. “So-so.”

  “Must be tough with people around all the time.”

  “A little.”

  “Sorry for intruding.”

  Her mouth was dry, her head in a dither. She wondered if this was how True felt whenever Chet was around. And would Nat be as upset if she were suddenly missing?

  “Want me to tell Ty to steer clear of here on weekdays?”

  She gave her head a slight shake. “No. Anne likes his company. Besides, it gives her something to do.” She smiled faintly. “I don’t think she expected Rainbow to have so few diversions.”

  “How about if I ask her to do my housekeeping? You could write while she’s over at Paradise.”

  A stinging suspicion pierced her thoughts. Was he looking for a way to be alone with Anne?

  “Come sit with me on the swing, Shayla. I need to ask you something.”

  She could have told him he’d be wasting his time, asking her anything. She hadn’t thought straight for two days. Not since she’d lain awake the better share of the night and found herself thinking words like love and marriage.

  “I’ve got to drive down to Boise tomorrow,” he said as they settled onto the swing. “Leigh and Jim are flying in with the twins. I’ll stay overnight, then come back the next day after they fly out again. I thought you might like to come along. You could meet my sister and her husband.”

  He wanted her to meet his family?

  “Of course, I don’t know how much fun it’ll be driving back with two six-year-old girls. I’m no expert with kids like you are. Guess that’d be another good reason for you to come along, wouldn’t it?”

  It took a few seconds for that comment to sink in. When it did, she asked, “The twins are coming back with you?”

  “I thought I already told you.” He pushed his hat back on his head, then scratched his temple. “But I’m not surprised if I forgot to mention it. Whenever I’m with you, I’m lucky if I can remember my own name.” He gave her a slow, lazy kind of smile before continuing. “Leigh and Jim are going overseas for his job, and they’re leaving their girls in my care.”

  He wanted help with his nieces. He thought her an expert with kids. It wasn’t that he was interested in her. Not really.

  “How about it, Shayla?”

  She felt stiff and cold inside. “I don’t think so. Anne’s here and—”

  “Ty’ll keep your sister busy while you’re gone. She’ll never even—”

  “No.” She stood up. “I prefer not to go. But thanks for asking. Excuse me. I…I’ve got something I must do inside.” She hurried away before she burst into tears of disappointment in front of him.

  She’d thought…

  She’d hoped…

  But she should have known better.

  * * *

  “What did I say?” Nat asked himself as the screen door swung closed behind Shayla. He’d upset her, but for the life of him, he didn’t know what he’d done to cause it.

  Just as he stood up, Anne came through the doorway. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You must have done something. Shayla never cries. She’s the strongest one in the family.”

  “She’s crying?” He moved forward. “I’d better apologize.”

  Anne blocked the entrance with her body. “She said she was going to lie down.” She stared at him with a suspicious gaze.

  “All I did was ask her to go with me to Boise. I wanted her to meet my sister
and her husband.”

  “I guess she doesn’t want to go.”

  “Anne, listen. I—”

  She put her hand on his chest, keeping him outside. “Nobody hurts my big sister, Mr. O’Connell.”

  “But I didn’t mean to.”

  “I think you’d better go.”

  He wanted to argue. He wanted to push his way past her and go after Shayla. But he had the feeling Anne would light into him like an angry cat, claws bared, if he tried.

  He took a step away from the door. “All right. Tell her I’ll come see her as soon as I get back. Tell her that I’m sorry for…for whatever I said wrong.”

  Anne remained dubious, judging by her expression and the set of her shoulders.

  Women!

  * * *

  “Women,” Nat muttered the next day as he waited for the airplane carrying the Parker family. Why were females so hard to understand?

  He’d offered to let Anne work for him so Shayla would have time alone to write. He’d invited Shayla to come to Boise to meet Leigh and Jim. He’d admitted that being around her made him forget his own name. None of those things should have upset her. So what had? What had he done or said to make her cry, to make her hide from him?

  Passengers began to pour out of the Arrivals doorway, intruding on his troubled musings. For now, he’d have to pay attention to his sister and her family. But as soon as he got back to Rainbow Valley, he was going to get some answers.

  “Nat!”

  He grinned as his gaze met with his sister’s over the heads of other passengers. “Hey, Leigh!” He waved. “Jim!”

  Moments later, he hugged Leigh and shook his brother-in-law’s hand. Then he was reintroduced to Cathy and Angie, a pair of dark-haired angels if ever he’d seen any.

  “Hi, Uncle Nat,” they said in unison, their smiles shy, their eyes slightly downcast.

  “Hi, yourself. Wow! I’d forgotten how identical you are. How can I tell you apart?”

  Their smiles grew.

  “Nobody can,” one of them said.

  “Except Mommy and Daddy,” the other added.

  A smart man would have known right then that he was in trouble.

  Nat put his arm around Leigh’s shoulders. “It’s great to see you, sis. How’s Mom?” They started toward the escalator that led to the baggage claim.

  “She’s fine. The new medication she’s on has helped ease that pain in her hip.” She glanced at him as they walked. “She’s got a steady beau.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. I think it’s getting serious.”

  Nat released a soft whistle. “Mom with a boyfriend. Isn’t that something?”

  “How about you?” She gently jabbed him in the ribs. “Anybody special in your life?”

  He hesitated, then answered, “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  It must have been something in his voice that caused Leigh to stop, forcing him to do the same. She looked up at him for several moments. “Well, I’ll be. Nat, you’re in love, aren’t you?”

  After drawing a deep breath, he nodded. “Yes.”

  “And is she in love with you?”

  “That I can’t say for certain. I’m trying not to rush things. To wait for the Lord to say what and when.” He remembered the scene yesterday on Shayla’s deck and wondered if he should ask his sister for some advice.

  “Who is she? Do I know her?”

  “No.” They started walking again. “She’s fairly new to the valley.”

  “Your neighbor. The housekeeper. I knew it!”

  “She’s not a housekeeper. She’s a writer. She’s working on a mystery novel right now. Her name’s Shayla Vincent. She’s old Mrs. Erickson’s great-niece.”

  “I’m happy for you, Nat. I hope it works out.” Leigh tightened her arm around his waist. “I’m sorry I won’t meet her before leaving the country.”

  “Me, too.”

  * * *

  Shayla stared at the manuscript pages on her lap.

  True could escape from the murderous Mitchell Jones. Then she could sneak up on Chet and strangle him while he slept. Or maybe she could put some horrible drug in his coffee the next time he ate at the diner. She could watch him die a miserable, painful death, writhing in agony on the floor, begging for mercy, which she most certainly would not give. Or there was always water torture or bamboo shoots beneath the fingernails.

  There had to be a hundred different ways True Barry could make Chet Morrison suffer.

  “I wish you’d tell me what it was Nat did,” Anne said, her voice laced with concern.

  Shayla looked up. “What?”

  “What did he do?”

  She shook her head. “It isn’t important.”

  “It must be or you wouldn’t be moping.”

  “I’m not moping.” She gave her sister a pointed look. “I’m trying to get some work done.”

  “I like Nat, and so do you, whether you want to admit it or not.” Anne flopped onto the sofa across from Shayla and stretched out her long legs, crossing one ankle over the other. She tucked her hands behind her head. “You should have seen his face. He couldn’t imagine what he’d said to upset you. Whatever it was, he regrets it. You ought to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  Shayla released a deep sigh. “Leave it alone, Anne.”

  “You don’t just like him, you know. You’re in love with him.”

  “I most certainly am not.” She dropped the manuscript onto the rickety coffee table and rose from her chair. “Now let’s change the subject.”

  ‘To what?” Anne raised one leg and stared at her toenails. “I need to fix my polish. Do you have any polish remover down here?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t have to bite my head off. I didn’t do anything.”

  “Ooh!” Shayla headed out of the cabin, letting the screen door slam behind her. She almost flew down the steps, then headed up the hillside that rose behind the cabin. She needed to get far away so she could scream without anybody hearing her.

  She walked for a good five minutes before she realized that the sound she heard was Honey Girl’s familiar yap. She stopped and turned. Sure enough, there was the puppy, struggling to catch up with her.

  “How did you get out of the house?” she asked as she knelt down.

  Honey Girl scampered through the underbrush, undaunted. “Anne let you out, didn’t she?”

  The puppy barked, as if saying, “Yes!”

  “That was a rotten thing for her to do.”

  As she lifted Honey Girl into her arms, she looked down the mountain toward the cabin. Anne stood at the comer of the deck, staring up the hillside, shading her eyes with one hand.

  “That was a rotten thing to do!” Shayla shouted. Her sister simply raised a hand in a wave before retreating indoors.

  “I don’t love him.” Shayla held Honey Girl against her chest as she resumed her climb up the hillside. “I don’t, and I don’t care what Anne or you or anybody else says. I don’t love him.”

  Dried leaves and old pine needles crunched beneath her feet.

  “All right. He’s a nice man, and it was kind of him to give you to me. But thinking a man is nice isn’t the same thing as being in love.”

  The sun beat warm upon her back.

  “I’m not interested in being in love. I don’t want any more family than the one I already have. God has called me to write. Why did I even consider wanting more?”

  Honey Girl wiggled and whined, begging down.

  Tears, unexpected and unwelcome, filled Shayla’s eyes. “He only wanted an expert with kids. He just wanted me to help him with his nieces.” She set the puppy on the ground. “I hope those girls drive him crazy. I do. I really do.”

  Guilt pricked her conscience over her unkind words. She should forgive, turn the other cheek, be long-suffering. But what she wanted was for God to heap burning coals on Nat O’Connell’s head, because he’d carelessly broken her heart.

  * * * />
  Angie started crying at the airport the next morning. Or was it Cathy who was in tears? Nat didn’t know. He couldn’t tell them apart, even when Leigh dressed them differently.

  “I don’t wanna stay with Uncle Nat. I wanna go with you and Daddy.”

  “You can’t, sweetheart,” Leigh said, smoothing back her daughter’s hair. “We’ve talked about this.”

  The other twin started crying, too. “Why couldn’t we stay with Gramma? I want my own room.”

  “Your grandmother doesn’t have the energy to keep you for so long.” Leigh glanced at Jim for help.

  “Listen,” their dad offered. “Remember how we told you your uncle Nat has horses and dogs and cows and all sorts of neat things on the ranch. You’ll get to go swimming and riding. It’ll be like going to camp.”

  “I’m afraid of horses,” one of the girls cried.

  “We’ve got to get through security or we’ll miss our flight.” Leigh gave each of her daughters a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Be good for your uncle Nat. We’ll call as soon as we can.” She was crying now, too.

  “Mommy, don’t go. Daddy!”

  Leigh and Jim disengaged themselves as gently as they could, but Nat still had to hold the twins to keep them from following their parents into the security queue.

  The crying and wailing kept up long after their parents disappeared from view. In fact Nat was beginning to believe the two girls would never stop crying.

  Give him a bucking bronco any day of the week, he thought as he stared helplessly at the whimpering children who were now clinging to each other as if their lives depended upon it. He sure could have used Shayla right about now. She would have known how to talk to the twins, how to make them feel better.

  He cleared his throat. “It’s time we head for the ranch. It’s getting late and we’ve got a long drive.”

  “I don’t want to go with you,” one of them answered, stomping her foot and glaring at him with defiant eyes.

  “You don’t have any choice.” He forced himself to be calm.