by Nicole Helm
He didn’t deserve a new life, except when Gracie was touching his face, he couldn’t help but see it. Want it. Need it.
Chapter Ten
Gracie didn’t understand anything that was happening. Most especially the naked emotion on Will’s face, which was something she’d surely never seen.
He lifted his good arm and placed his hand over hers on his face. She thought he’d pull it away like he had in the hospital the other day. She’d thought he’d do anything but rest it there, somehow warm against her cold one.
Everything in her chest pulled too tight, and it was hard to breathe. All of this was different, and different was scary. Almost as scary as the situation they were in the middle of.
She should step away from his hand. Step away from him and this. Stick to her guns. But she cared too much, even if it made her stupid.
“We don’t need to have this settled to move on,” she said gently. “You don’t have to have all the answers to plan your life. All the things that happen in a day are your life.”
“So, crazy murderers after us is my life?”
It wasn’t funny, but she found herself smiling. “For today. Yes.”
His mouth quirked into that almost smile she used to desperately try to wheedle out of him.
Will’s hand moved off her hand, but not to do anything remotely expected. Instead, it slid into her hair, behind her head, and it pulled her closer. She could see a myriad of emotions in his expression. A confusion. A hurt. A warmth she’d occasionally caught sight of before and then convinced herself she was only seeing what she wanted to see.
“Why?” he murmured, and his mouth was so close to hers she could feel his breath. She could see the diamond pattern to that pretty blue of his eyes. She could count the whiskers on his cheek if she wanted to.
There weren’t many things she didn’t want to do when it came to Will. But his question made no sense. “Why what?”
“Two years, I’ve kept myself shut down. Separate. I haven’t been good to you. But even when you gave up on me, you didn’t really.”
“That isn’t true. Well, not fully. You let me help you, and you let me be a part of something that hurt. It might not make any sense to you, but I... Ever since my parents died, even though I bounced around a lot and nobody really wanted me, they all made sure to shelter me. Hadn’t I seen enough horrible things? No one ever let me help. No one ever let me be there when something bad was going on.”
“Because you were there. In the car with your parents when they died.”
She blinked. “How do you know that?”
“You told me. I might not have always admitted to listening, but I was. I was listening.” He almost sounded surprised, as though he hadn’t realized it himself.
“Well, yes. So, it’s not like you were awful to me. You gave me something I’d been searching for. Even if it’s a little messed up. It was nice to feel like I was needed, like I could help. You’re a good man, Will Cooper. Amidst all this, you were always so good.”
His fingertips against her scalp pressed harder, bringing her even closer to him. Their bodies brushed and Gracie forgot all about the cold and the people after them. She could only think about his mouth, right there, so close, and somehow he was doing this. Pushing this.
And he wasn’t running away.
“I’ve needed you this whole time,” he said, and his lips were so close to hers she could practically feel the words against her mouth. “I don’t know anything about being a good man. I know less about moving forward or new lives or living period. Not anymore.”
“I could teach you,” she whispered, moving onto her toes so she could be that much closer to what she wanted. A new life. Moving forward. It might be the completely wrong time, but how could she not take what she wanted when it was right here? She knew how precarious it all was.
“I think you could,” he murmured, and then he closed that last distance, his mouth finally, finally meeting hers.
A dream come true that was nothing like her dreams. This was fire and heat and a kind of need that had her shaking at her core. It wasn’t sweet or even pretty. It was deeper than all that. Elemental. It had an edge, and if she had any sense to be scared by it, his kiss had obliterated that sense.
“Finally,” she murmured against his mouth, making up for the fact he had a broken arm by holding on to him with both of hers.
Not that it mattered. Even with only one good arm, Will held her exactly where he wanted to, his mouth moving against hers as expertly as if they’d done this forever.
She wouldn’t mind, but as she shifted against him, he made a little noise, something like an ouch he tried to hide in a cough.
She pulled away. “I hurt you.”
He shook his head, but it was no use denying it. He was a mess, and she’d forgotten all about it in the haze of that kiss.
Kiss. Amazing, perfect, life-changing kiss. It didn’t matter she’d only been kissed a handful of times before. She knew this one would change her life.
“I’ll live. That’s the point, right? Living.”
She grinned up at him, feeling some hope in the midst of all this danger. “I like to think so.”
He heaved out a sigh and looked around as if he wasn’t sure of where they were or how they’d gotten here. She felt the same. Her heart racing, her mouth still tingling.
Will had kissed her. Will. In the middle of all this hell and worry and confusion and danger, and he’d kissed her like she was the center of the universe.
“We’re still not safe.”
Because they couldn’t ignore reality forever, Gracie agreed. “No.”
He looked around, and this time when his gaze met the cabin she saw the hurt, the loss. “We should go.”
“Go where?”
His eyebrows drew together, but when his gaze returned to hers, there was a determination there that she didn’t recognize. It wasn’t the blind certainty he’d been following for the past two years. It was different, not that she understood how.
“We’re going to your cousin.”
She took a step away from him, afraid this was some kind of trick. He was going to make them split up now or—“What? Why would we go to Laurel?”
“We need to find the truth, and I don’t know that the police can find it, but maybe you taught me something after all. Doing it alone while they do it alone doesn’t solve anything. Maybe we have to work together. We should be safe while we do. So, we go to Cam. We talk to Laurel. They can’t bend the rules, no, but four heads are better than one. If there’s a new life to be built, we don’t risk this one.”
We. She might have argued with him, except it was impossible to argue with we.
* * *
WHILE GRACIE DROVE from the remains of his cabin back down to Bent, Will kept an eye on the road. He couldn’t explain what had changed in him up on that mountain, or what had changed in him when he’d pressed his mouth to Gracie’s.
But something had changed. Big. Monumental. Or maybe some piece of his old self had finally broken through years of grief.
Was that what that cloud had been? Not just grief that Paula had died, but grief over the dissolution of their marriage. Because this fog, this turning in on himself and shutting people out had started before Paula had died.
Then she had died and he’d had something to blame it all on. Something to drown himself in.
But since that day Gracie had come to his door with the news Paula had died, she’d been there. This one lifeline, and in that small connection he’d maintained some piece of his old self, no matter how buried.
Now that he realized it, recognized it, had to face fully the fact that life went on and there were new lives to have, he couldn’t possibly risk anyone else in his single-minded attempt to find Paula’s murderer.
There had to be some trust. He might
not trust the Bent County Sheriff’s Department, but Gracie trusted Laurel and Will trusted Gracie. He didn’t know much about Cam Delaney, but Will was somewhat aware he’d been in the military, and that kind of experience would be helpful in keeping Gracie safe.
In keeping them both safe, from whatever lay ahead.
In the falling afternoon light, there weren’t very many cars on the road, and Gracie drove them to the Delaney Ranch. It was a vast, sprawling piece of land dotted with perfectly kept buildings, except for one rather ramshackle cabin in the midst of spindly leafless trees in the back. The mountains in the distance looked like they’d been placed there for a slow-moving movie landscape shot and everything glittered with ice and snow. Wreaths lined the fences, and bright red bows dotted each north-facing window. Every tree in the sprawling front yard was covered in sparkling white lights shining through early dusk.
“You really grew up here?” Will asked, trying to imagine having this kind of space. This kind of vast freedom.
“Part of the time.”
“I don’t think I would have left.”
She smiled ruefully. “You would have.”
He turned to look at her and the little thread of hurt that went along with that statement. She didn’t talk about herself much, but when she did, he listened. He knew her parents had died in that car crash with her when she was six. He’d known she’d spent some years in Colorado before moving in with her uncle and cousins here, but he’d never gotten the sense she’d been unhappy. “Why do you say that?”
“My uncle never wanted me here. He was never cruel or mean, but it’s tough to be a teenager where you know you’re not wanted.”
“I think that’s tough for any age group.”
She stopped in front of the main house, which looked like a sparkling ad for a ranch vacation Christmas. She turned to him, something soft and a little scary on her face.
Because he might have found some old piece of himself in that kiss, but he still knew he’d grown clumsy with people, with emotions, especially the soft sort.
“I imagine you’re right. But I had my cousins, and I have this job that I love. I did all right. I’m doing all right.” She pulled a face. “As long as we figure out who’s trying to hurt us.”
He laughed in spite of himself. “Priorities and all that.” But there was something close to vulnerability lurking in Gracie’s eyes. He’d never allowed himself to name it before, but that’s exactly what it was and he couldn’t imagine it stemmed from anything other than a childhood of feeling not particularly wanted.
He could relate to that. He’d forced himself to believe he was different from just about everyone else, but the real reason Gracie had stuck, that he’d allowed her to stick when no one else in his life had these past two years, was a certain kind of understanding.
“You know, it’s not like I just suddenly noticed I’m attracted to you,” he said, because he had a sinking suspicion that was what she’d been telling herself on the drive over.
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”
He shrugged. “There have been moments.”
“What kind of moments?”
He laughed at her straightforwardness. One of the many things he liked about her. Another was that it almost didn’t feel odd he was laughing, truly laughing, for the first time in years when they were in the midst of this nightmare.
But something good had been loosed inside him, and he wanted that to last even if someone wanted him dead.
“I think we’ll have plenty of time to discuss that later. For right now, let’s go inside and face the wrath of your do-gooder cousins.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a do-gooder.”
“As long as sometimes you acknowledge you have to break the rules.”
“Hey, I was the one who stole a truck to break you out of the hospital.”
“Yes, Gracie. You are the queen of bad girls.”
She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm, but she pulled the keys out of the ignition and pushed her door open. “Time to face the bad girl music.”
Will got out of the truck as well and walked with her up the shoveled walk to the front door. It was one of those giant double doors, and the wreaths that adorned both were bigger than Will’s head.
Having lived in Bent for not quite a decade he’d understood that the Delaneys ran the show. Gracie’s uncle was the mayor and owned the bank, while her cousin ran it. Laurel was a sheriff’s deputy, and another Delaney sibling ran the general store. The Delaney name was splashed over everything. He’d understood they were a big part of the town, but he hadn’t fully taken that on board until he’d stood right here in the front of this sprawling house in the midst of this picture-perfect ranch.
Gracie knocked on the door. He didn’t know why that struck him as odd. He’d certainly never bust into his mother’s house without knocking, but Gracie was, well... She was far different. He was surprised she didn’t belong just everywhere.
When the door opened, it was neither Laurel nor Cam, but Geoff Delaney. Gracie’s uncle. Mayor of Bent. A man who looked quite unhappy to see his niece.
“Well, well, well,” Mr. Delaney said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was a neat, well-put-together older man. But there was absolutely no warmth in him as he gave Gracie a disapproving look. “You’ve been causing quite the commotion, Grace.”
“Hi. I’m sorry. If Cam is still looking for me—”
“You stole his truck. Of course he’s looking for you. Half the town is looking for you. What you’ve done is very inconsiderate and childish. Instead of coming inside, I suggest you head down to the police station and turn yourself in.”
“Surely that’s not necessary,” Will said, the words out of his mouth before he had the sense to keep his mouth shut and his nose out of her family business.
“No. He’s right. We’ll go. I’m sure we can get a hold of Laurel there.”
Will couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. As much as he didn’t get along with his mother and even less with his stepfather, they wouldn’t have treated him like a criminal. They’d be ambivalent, sure, but not cold and dismissive. Besides, he’d deserved their censure. He’d been a surly ass of a teenager.
He couldn’t imagine Gracie being anything but sweet and kind. Giving. Someone treating her casually cruelly didn’t add up. At all. “You’d think family would want to help their own,” Will said, glaring at Mr. Delaney.
Gracie pulled on Will’s good arm, trying to get him off the porch. “It’s not important. Let’s go find Laurel and—”
“I would think a stranger would mind his own business,” Mr. Delaney said, his voice harsh and even darker than it had been when talking to Gracie.
There was something about that voice that Will couldn’t quite place or put together, but it gave him a strange chill. So he let himself be pulled back to Cam’s truck by Gracie.
They got back into the truck and no matter that Gracie tried to put on a brave face, Will could tell she’d been upset by that whole interaction.
He was bothered by it, too, and not just the way her uncle had treated her with such coldness. Something about Mr. Delaney’s voice was weirdly familiar. The kind of familiar that made him edgy, suspicious.
His eyes caught the giant four-car garage as Gracie turned the truck around and headed back out to the highway.
“Gracie, this is going to sound very, very strange, but what kind of car does your uncle drive?”
“Oh, one of those giant Ford...” Her head whipped toward him before she looked back at the road. She began shaking her head. “No. That’s... No.”
“He drives a black Ford F250.”
“I could name ten people from Bent who have black Ford F250s. We don’t even have a year on it. My uncle is... Will, no.”
“It’s an awfully strange coincidence.”
&n
bsp; “But it is a coincidence. It’s impossible my uncle had anything to do with this. He prides himself on being moral and good and the mayor of the town. He would never kill someone.”
“He wasn’t very nice to you.”
“There’s a big difference between not nice and cold-blooded killer. Honestly, if he wanted to murder people, I think the Carsons would have been wiped out years ago. It’s a weird coincidence, sure, but I’m not sure why you would make that jump. It’s a big jump.”
“Something about his voice was familiar.” Will wished he could place it, understand it. “Something about this is all messed up. I think we need to look into your uncle.”
Chapter Eleven
It was impossible. It was insane. But as she drove Cam’s truck toward the police station, Gracie couldn’t help but try to connect the very confusing dots.
“My uncle would have been like twenty years older than your wife at least.”
“Gracie, don’t be naive.”
Gracie scowled. “What? That’s gross.”
“Plenty of women have relationships with older men. Much older men. We’re not exactly close in age, and you did kiss me.”
She gave him a doleful look. “You are eight years older. Not an entire lifetime.” She shook her head, turning onto the road that would take them around Bent toward the Bent County Police Station. The route down Main Street would be quicker, but this way they might be able to avoid detection till they got to Laurel themselves. “I just can’t imagine my uncle being wrapped up in any of this. I can’t.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe this is all coincidence. But I can’t ignore a coincidence just because you’re related to it.”
He was right. Objectively she understood he was right. But she knew Uncle Geoff. He wasn’t the nicest guy, but a murderer? It didn’t add up.
“If we tell Laurel about what happened at the motel—”
“We cannot tell Laurel about this coincidence. This is her father. I wouldn’t say she idolizes him, but she certainly respects him and loves him. You can’t ask his kids to look into him being a killer.”
