by Mae Clair
Abruptly warm, she turned her attention back to the road. She had a history of failed relationships, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate the male physique. Especially when a man was as well put together as Caleb DeCardian.
“Who’s Meade?’
“What?”
“You said you had to reach Meade.” She eased into a left turn. Overhead, the sky was a patchwork of clouds and stars. “Is that a person or a place?”
“Uh…” The word stuck on his tongue. “Nothing important.” He tilted his head against the seat, his lashes sweeping closed as he dismissed the question. “Thank you, Annie.”
“Ari,” she corrected, falling silent. Weathering Rock was only moments away, but it felt like an eternity. Life would have been much easier if she’d spent the night at Lauren’s like her friend had wanted. Instead, she’d insisted she could navigate the roads, the hour not too late for a drive she’d made countless times before.
Yet in all those times she’d never come upon a rider on horseback wearing a 19th century frock coat. Caleb. Even his name was archaic, his speech and diction distinctly formal. What did she expect from an odd encounter in the middle of the night?
Another curve in the road and Weathering Rock came into view, only the rooftop visible among layers of low-lying fog. Memory told her the house was set back from the road a good hundred yards by a rolling expanse of lawn. Squat pines and a fringe of ash flanked the driveway.
“Almost there,” Arianna told her passenger as she turned the Sebring up the sloping drive. The lane rose at a steady incline, paving the way to a carefully preserved manor home with a broad wraparound porch, white pillars, and multiple chimneys. She stopped at the top of the drive in time to see a man sprint around the house. He raced for the car.
“Are you Doctor DeCardian?” She’d barely managed to open her door before he reached the vehicle.
“Yes!” He shot a glance through the windshield at her passenger, then wrenched open the door. “Caleb? What the hell happened? Ranger came pounding back without you. I thought Seth--” He stopped abruptly as if realizing he’d said too much. “Are you hurt?”
“Headache.” Caleb swung his legs to the ground.
Arianna felt her stomach clench. “What can I do?”
“Get the front door,” the other man--Winston, if she’d heard correctly--instructed.
With a nod, she hurried up the steps, nearly tripping on the narrow front stairs. Behind her, Winston kept one hand clasped around Caleb’s arm as he steered him toward the house.
Panicked by the thought she might have caused him permanent harm, she wrapped a sweat-sticky palm around the doorknob and shoved inside. She should have called Lucas or the cops. She should have done something. But it was too late to be courting shoulda-coulda-wouldas.
She waited as Caleb hobbled past with his brother, then trailed behind them, following down a central hallway. An open arch led to a parlor with blush champagne walls and furnishings of wheat, navy and gold. Her heels clacked on the walnut floorboards, echoing shrilly, rattling her already frayed nerves.
“Sit here.” Winston steered his brother to a medallion-backed sofa with clawed feet. It looked as comfortable as a slab of rock, but Caleb folded into it with an appreciative groan. He bowed his head and massaged his temple.
“I couldn’t tell if he was bleeding,” she blurted to Winston as he breezed past and ducked into an adjoining room. He came back within seconds, carrying a plastic pill vial, prompting Arianna to continue as if he’d never left. “I…I almost ran him down with my car.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Caleb said. “I should have been paying attention.”
“Too worried about Meade or some other dumbass garbage,” Winston muttered, uncapping the vial and tumbling several white tablets into his palm. He thrust two under Caleb’s nose. “Here. I’ll get water.”
“I don’t need it.” Taking the pills, Caleb swallowed them dry. He sagged against the cushions and flicked Winston a sour glance. “Quit looking so damn irritable. I’m not bleeding, I took a spill from my infernal horse.”
Infernal? Arianna cleared her throat. “I know I’m not a doctor, but couldn’t he have a concussion?”
Winston DeCardian looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. As tall as his brother, he had dark wavy hair and shockingly blue eyes. “Of course he could, probably does too, the damn idiot. Caleb suffers from headaches and had one earlier tonight.” He eyed his brother with a frown. “Which is all the more reason to not go riding after dark. You’re lucky this woman was driving by, Caleb.”
“You don’t understand.” Arianna stepped closer, certain he’d drawn the wrong conclusion. “I’m the reason his horse reared. I mean, my car… It wasn’t his fault.”
“It wasn’t yours either,” Caleb said again. He motioned toward his brother. “Winston, meet Arianna Hart. Arianna, my brother Winston.”
“Wyn is fine.” The doctor managed a halfway agreeable nod for Arianna. “Caleb is the only one who calls me Winston.” He waved toward the windows, indicating the road beyond. “Whatever happened out there, I’m glad you stopped to help.”
“I think Arianna should spend the night,” Caleb said, tilting his head against the rear of the sofa and cupping a hand over his forehead.
“What?” She laughed, startled by the suggestion. Damn, if she hadn’t been staring, focused on the way the light defined strands of white-gold and ash in his longish hair. It didn’t help he sat with his legs braced apart, his jeans pulling taut, defining the muscular lines of his thighs. Unlike Lauren, she’d never been attracted to blond men. Lauren’s ex-husband, Rick Rothrock, was the perpetual golden boy of Sagehill--young, handsome and successful.
Feeling her checks flush, she cleared her throat. “I live in Sagehill.” She was thankful neither man had noticed her straying glance. “Twenty minutes and I’ll be home.”
Caleb lowered his hand long enough to meet her eyes. “The fog is growing worse and it’s late.”
“He’s right.” Absently, Wyn laced his fingers through his rumpled black curls. He looked like he’d only woken up, sloppy in comparison to his fair-haired brother. She guessed he’d dressed in a hurry when he heard Caleb’s horse outside. The physical resemblance between the two was slight, and Arianna would have never pegged them as being related.
“I’ll be fine driving home,” she said.
“I’d rather you didn’t.” Caleb cast his brother a pointed glance, but his words were for Arianna. “It’s not safe tonight.”
“Excuse me?”
“The fog,” Caleb clarified with an easy smile. “It’s building.”
Before she could protest, he stood and gathered her hand in his, the touch igniting sparks along the pads of her fingertips.
“I’d feel better if you stayed here. If you need to call your husband--”
“I’m not married.” Normally she could tell when a man was fishing, trying to discover if she was involved with someone. She’d been on the singles’ scene long enough to know the rules and spot the players, but Caleb bewildered her. Her eyes dropped to his left hand, noting the absence of a wedding ring.
“I live alone.” She cringed as soon as she said it, realizing her blunder. Nothing like announcing she lived by herself and wouldn’t be missed. Why not ring the dinner bell for anyone unscrupulous enough to ditch her body in a remote area where the remains wouldn’t be found for months or years? “Uh, but I’m still friends with my ex-boyfriend. He’s a detective with the Sagehill Police Department and we check in with each other regularly.”
“I see.” Caleb released her hand. “You can call him over there.” He nodded to a table where Arianna noted a wireless handset among a clump of other items--car keys, pens, a pocketknife, unopened mail and a handful of loose change.
She shook her head, embarrassed to appear distrustful when he’d been nothing but understanding. Caleb had a way of looking at her that mad
e her feel like an awkward teenager. He couldn’t have been more than thirty-two or thirty-three, yet seemed older.
“I should go now.” She didn’t believe either man was a threat. They would have harmed her already had that been their intent, but she didn’t want to spend the night with strangers. The only danger outside was a naturally occurring fog, something she’d encountered countless times before.
“I’ll leave my insurance information in case there’s a problem.”
Caleb traded a glance with Wyn, something nonverbal passing between them. “The least I can do is escort you to your vehicle and ensure it wasn’t damaged.”
She couldn’t argue with that. Rummaging a pen and paper from her purse, she jotted down her contact information and left it on the table by the phone. Afterward, both men walked with her outside, Caleb holding the door as she stepped onto the porch.
