by Anne Stuart
The one strange thing was Sophie’s sudden affection for the Old Goat. She visited him almost every day, and they’d developed a sort of bantering rudeness that they both enjoyed tremendously, particularly once it became clear that Stephen Henry’s lechery was more particularly directed toward the young male nurses than her prepubescent daughter.
Of Caleb there’d been no sign at all. At least, not for her. She had no idea where he was staying. He wasn’t at the one hotel, and his own place had burned to the ground. She suspected he might be holed up at Stephen Henry’s while the old man was in the hospital, but she didn’t care enough to ask, she told herself. Since he didn’t care enough to show his face.
Maggie was waiting for her outside the house, her broad, expressionless face the same as always. “You’re really going to leave us?” she said when Rachel climbed out of the car.
“Could you even doubt it? You and Kristen can come visit with us whenever we’re back in the country. Kristen could even fly overseas and join us during school vacations.”
“You’re forgetting how much a small-town cop makes.”
“You’re forgetting how much David’s insurance settlement was,” she replied. “I don’t really want the money, but I’m more than delighted to use it for things that will make Sophie happy. She’s come through this amazingly well but she’ll still need her friends.”
“Seems like she’s come through it better than you,” Maggie observed.
Rachel made a face. “Thanks for noticing. Sophie doesn’t have to kick herself in the butt every day for being a gullible fool. I don’t just marry a psychopath, but I nearly get us murdered because I refused to listen to…good advice.”
Maggie had no qualms about naming names. “I don’t blame you for not trusting Caleb. He’s never done anything to make people trust him. I think he liked people thinking he was the crazy one. He certainly never did anything to convince people otherwise.”
Rachel’s smile was forced. “Well, they know now, don’t they? Not that it matters. He must be long gone by now.”
A slow smile lit Maggie’s weathered face. “You asking me if he’s still in town?”
“Of course not.”
“Because he is. Man’s got a boatload of guilt to deal with, and he doesn’t know what the hell to do.
Unlike his father, who doesn’t feel a speck of responsibility for any of it. But then, anyone knows that Stephen Henry’s a major asshole.”
That surprised a laugh out of Rachel. “Blasphemy.”
“You betcha. I brought the keys to the place.
You want me to come in with you, keep you company while you pack?”
“There’s no need. I don’t think David’s ghost is going to be bothering me.”
“I doubt it. I expect he’s roasting in hell right now, and they don’t give day passes.”
“You think he’s in hell? He was a very sick man.”
“Oh, screw that. He was a very bad man, and I’m just sorry I didn’t get the chance to see him hang.” She looked at Rachel. “At least you got to kick him in the face a couple of times.”
“Three times,” Rachel said. “And I feel bad about that.”
“Do you really?”
She thought about it. “No. I’d do it again if I had the chance.”
“Me, too. Someone threatens my daughter, they’re toast.”
Rachel thought about it for a moment. She’d relived those moments over and over again, the feel of her booted foot smashing into his face, and then his body falling, twisting and turning. She looked at Maggie. “Damn straight,” she said.
Maggie laughed. “Good for you. Where’s Sophie now?”
“Visiting the Old Goat. Which I don’t understand in the slightest.” Rachel shook her head. “But I think we’ve already established that Sophie’s a better judge of character than I ever was, so there must be something good about him.”
“He tried to save your life and got a bullet from his beloved son for his efforts.”
“Well, there is that.” She wasn’t going to ask. She’d told herself it didn’t matter—if Caleb didn’t want to see her then she sure as hell didn’t want to see him. She couldn’t fight it anymore. “Where the fuck is he?”
“Still in the hospital, I assume.”
“I didn’t mean Stephen Henry.”
Maggie grinned. “I know. Actually, I don’t know where Caleb is. He’s heading off to New Zealand in a couple of days—he’s taking some time off and then he’s on assignment again.”
“Sophie and I are going to New Zealand,” Rachel said, alarmed.
“It’s a big country. You aren’t going to run into him unless you want to,” Maggie pointed out.
“I don’t know what I want,” she said, miserable.
“How’s that working for you? If you don’t want me to come in with you then I’ve got things I gotta do. Write me when you get a chance.”
“I’ve got a cell phone, you’ve got a cell phone. I’ll call.”
“From New Zealand?”
“I’ll call.”
The house smelled musty, with a chemical scent to it that had to come from the armies of investigators who had gone through the place with a fine-tooth comb. David’s precious BMW was long gone, evidence. There’d been a dead body in the trunk all that time. She shuddered at the thought.
She moved through the house slowly. She’d lived here for four months, and oddly enough there was no sign of her presence. Everything reflected David’s sterile taste, black and white and beige, and she wondered how she’d managed to live here so long without suffocating.
She went straight for Sophie’s bedroom. Her suitcase was gone, as well as the silver barrettes from the dresser, presumably taken as evidence. A stray shudder danced across Rachel’s backbone.
Holding her breath, she went into her own room. No sign of her suitcase, either, and the things she’d had left to pack were gone as well. Her closet door was open, the plain clothes were still in there, and she shook her head. She hadn’t remembered finishing packing, but then, that day had been such a horrific nightmare it was a surprise she remembered anything.
Maybe Maggie knew what had happened to their things. She headed out into the hallway. And then let out a shriek, as the tall shadow of a man appeared.
“For God’s sake,” Caleb said in a cranky tone. “It’s just me.”
She stared at him for a long moment. In the ill-lit hallway she couldn’t see him that clearly, but there were fading bruises on his face, presumably thanks to his brother. “I thought you’d left,” she mumbled.
“No, you didn’t. Maggie said you asked about me.”
“Maggie has a big mouth. I was just curious.”
“I’m here.”
“So you are.”
They stared at each other, a long, tense moment. “I needed to say something to you,” he said finally.
“No, you don’t.”
“Don’t tell me what I do or don’t have to do,” he snapped. “I left you to die.”
That was enough to startle her. “Don’t be ridiculous! Do you think I care? You were trying to save my daughter. Frankly you could have slit my throat and it wouldn’t have mattered. All that mattered was Sophie. You should know that.”
“Sophie’s not all that matters,” he said in a low voice. “You matter. To me.”
She didn’t want to hear this. She was much too vulnerable, and the only way she’d been able to keep it together was pull a layer of ice around her heart. “Glad to hear it,” she said briskly. “I’ll send you a Christmas card. Now if you’ll excuse me.” She tried to push past him, but he put a hand on her arm.
“How will you know where to send it?”
He was too close, but somehow his presence wasn’t threatening. She wanted to lean against him, put her face against his shoulder and let him hold her while she cried.
But Caleb Middleton wasn’t the comforting type.
She took a deep breath. “I don’t know whe
re I’ll send it. Maybe we’ll all come back and spend Christmas with Stephen Henry, just one big happy family,” she said sarcastically. And then realized that bizarre as it was, she wanted that. She loved the Old Goat. She loved—
Shit, that was the last thing she needed. She looked up at him. “Why are you here?”
“Sophie’s in the car,” he said, not answering.
“What car?”
“My car. Your suitcases are there as well.”
“Are you driving us to the airport?” she asked, trying to sound cool. “We haven’t booked a flight yet—I don’t know exactly where we’re going.”
“I thought New Zealand would be nice this time of year. Hell, it’s always nice. Sophie says you haven’t been there yet.”
“And why am I going there now?”
“Because I am,” he said. “And you’re coming with me.”
She looked at him. “Oh, yeah? Why?”
“Because it’s what Sophie wants. Don’t you spend your life doing everything for Sophie, including marrying the wrong man and almost getting killed? This is a no-brainer compared to that. Sophie wants the three of us together. I’ve made arrangements.”
She was tempted, damn she was tempted. “No,” she said flatly.
“No?”
“One stupid marriage is all Sophie gets. She and I will be fine on our own. I don’t have to make any more stupid sacrifices.”
“Marrying me would be a stupid sacrifice?” He looked affronted.
“Why the hell are you even talking about marriage?” she countered. Her heart was hammering, and she tried to tell herself it was because she was talking to a crazy person.
He ran a hand through his long hair, uncomfortable and frustrated. “Look. I’m tired of arguing with you. The fact of the matter is, you love me—” he ignored her derisive “ha!” and went on, “—and I love you. So we’re getting married and living happily ever after, whether you like it or not.”
“You don’t love me,” she said, cursing the fact that her voice sounded a little rough.
A wry smile lit his face. “Don’t I?” He took her chin in his hand, leaned over and kissed her, very lightly, on her mouth. He brushed her eyelids, her cheekbones with his lips, then kissed her again, slow, deep, tender, and she felt her body rise into it, unable to resist.
He stepped back. “Is that settled?”
“I’ve already killed one man because he tried to boss me around—don’t think you can get away with it.”
He laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. So what do you think? New Zealand? It’s lambing season.”
Before she could say anything the front door slammed open, and Sophie stood there, her newly cut hair just brushing her ears. “Hasn’t he talked you into it yet?” she said. “He must be doing a piss-poor job. Listen, Ma, the poor jerk is in love with you and wants to marry you, and he’ll even put up with me. And I know you well enough to know you’ve been eating your heart over him for the last ten days. So let’s get the hell out of here and you can argue on the plane.”
Rachel looked at Sophie, calm and unflappable as always, one very determined young lady. She looked at Caleb. She barely knew him. She just knew he was the one, and she’d known it since she’d first looked into his dark eyes outside of Stephen Henry’s kitchen.
She shrugged. “Well, at least I don’t have to worry about changing my name.”
Caleb grinned at her. “I like a practical woman,” he said. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” He held out his hand, and she took it, moving forward, putting her arm around Sophie’s narrow shoulders.
Sophie opened the door, and for a moment Rachel froze. For the first time in four months the sun was shining in Silver Falls, warm beams of light gilding everything.
And they stepped out into the bright sunshine, into a brave new world.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-3211-6
SILVER FALLS
Copyright © 2009 by Anne Kristine Stuart Ohlrogge.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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