The Lost Sister (Sister Series, #8)

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The Lost Sister (Sister Series, #8) Page 7

by Leanne Davis


  She went right up to the glass and let out an exclamation when a dark shadow passed by. Rushing to the next window and the next, she kept pace until the fish stopped. It was huge. “What is that?”

  “Chinook salmon. That’s what most of the boaters you saw downriver were after.”

  His voice was right next to her. His face was aimed toward the glass the fish was tucked behind but he leaned in closer to her. Closer than anyone had been in a long time. Her stomach rippled with self-awareness and raw nerves. She was close enough to him that she could see the start of whiskers on his chin and jaw. A square, masculine jaw… She hastily shook off the awkward feeling and stared forward. “It’s so huge.”

  “That’s actually just an average size. Fifteen pounds or so. They can get up in the twenties and rarely, the big ones can be thirty to fifty pounds. Come here,” he said, putting his hand over hers and pulling her with him. He let go immediately after she followed him but her hand felt like it was burning up from the contact. It was so faint, such a small gesture, and her entire body was on fire. He tugged her to where it was roped off, next to another window and a mostly dark room but someone else was in there. The angle was harder for her to see into but she spotted a pile-up of fish. Big fish. He leaned in and explained, “Fish counter works here. Always the best view.”

  Glancing upwards, Tara found his face directly above hers. The height difference was disconcertingly sexy. He had to lean towards her to actually touch her face, but it wasn’t so far that she got a kink in her neck. Her thoughts scattered as she, once again, stared up at his chin. He tilted his head downwards, quirking his eyebrows as if asking her silently what she needed. Blushing, she tried to ignore the strange feelings of attraction. “Someone’s job is to just sit here and physically count the fish?”

  “Yeah, that’s how we get the daily totals.”

  “Talk about boring. Isn’t there anything just slightly, I don’t know, more technologically advanced than having to stare at a window and counting the fish that swim by?”

  His smile was quick… as always. She noticed that many times over the months of serving him and their small, subtle interactions. Anyway, he smiled a lot. Little lifts at the corners of his mouth made his hazel eyes sparkle and showed off his straight, even white teeth. The skin in his cheeks crinkled and his nose lifted just a smidgeon. She flushed, suddenly realizing she was all but memorizing his features. She dropped her gaze to end the intense feelings washing over her. Nerves and anxiety came from just standing next to him… talking about fish. Fish! As if that could be hot or scintillating. No. Not at all. He was just showing her around the area. And things that most people living here would often see and know about. He was just being neighborly and her stomach was getting all twisted up over it.

  “Boring, yes. Necessary however, and really, no. Sometimes old-fashioned techniques are the best. Those totals are used to determine the length of the seasons and closures. We also keep track of how many are caught and how far the breeding fish make it. It’s all part of the management system of them.”

  “Which you’re a part of?”

  “Part of, yes. I enforce the days of the season and make sure all the involved parties abide by the state laws. From sport fisherman to Native Americans. Enforcing the laws for hunting, fishing, and wildlife conservation is all part of my job.”

  Her gaze dropped down to the gun. “As a game warden. But you’re a cop too? Right? I mean you can…”

  “Arrest people? Yeah. In fact, we have a little more latitude than the police to search vehicles. We often need less reason to. Few people know that, and they will abuse laws unrelated to fish or wildlife while assuming I have no jurisdiction.”

  “It must be fun to put those people in their place.” Fun? She winced. That was an odd description. “I didn’t mean fun. I meant… gratifying? You know, to punish them if they’re…”

  He again smiled, this time with amusement, but also because he was gentle and teasing. “It’s completely fun sometimes. I’ve had assholes think I’m nothing but a glorified rent-a-cop and they treat me like it. I guess the gun doesn’t always clue them in. Anyway, they are often unclear about what our role is. Lots of people think we can’t or won’t arrest them unless the crime is outdoor related. I get DUIs more than anything else. But sometimes, we deal with more serious crimes. Especially in the parks.”

  “Parks?”

  “The state parks. Lots of campers, hikers, climbers of Beacon Rock, and people using the boat launches and docks. Run into all kinds of stuff. Drugs. Theft. Graffiti. And plenty of odd stuff. People are, shit, the things I’ve seen are often disturbing. Makes me only wish it were really just the fish I had to protect.” His smile was quick.

  “You realized that I…”

  “Literally had no idea what I do? Yes. I gathered you were suspicious that I merely took care of and protected the fish.”

  “My father wasn’t outdoorsy at all. My family was the complete antithesis of outdoorsy. They were like… like allergic to fresh air.” She waved her arm at the windows behind her that captivated her attention. “I’ve only ever seen fish in aquariums or on plates. Never in the wild like this. It’s…”

  He laughed. “Allergic to fresh air? That’s a new one. You too? Are you allergic to air? And do you hate the fish? Are they too gross? Slimy? Ugly?”

  “Cool. I was going to say it’s pretty cool.” She turned back to watch their bodies undulating upwards. She thought of how much time she spent outside. Yeah, she could call herself outdoorsy now, if one included life in the center of a city while living in a tent. So… sure.

  Suddenly, a snake plunked against the window and she jumped back with a startled cry. Ryder chuckled behind her when she landed on his toe and her butt hit the tops of his thighs. He stepped back to make more room for her. She liked that about him. He was respectful. He also kept his body parts to himself and didn’t assume because he was an attractive, fit—okay, totally hot—man, that a girl, a woman, or anyone else wanted to feel his body or let him invade their space. He didn’t force himself on her or anyone else as if he were God’s gift to them.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, sinking her shoulders down under the coat. She stared at the snake head, now stuck on the window in front of her. Tiny and disc-like, the ugly mouth seemed to suck on the glass.

  “Lamprey eel. They’re parasites that live off bigger fish and mammals. Not actually an eel, however, more like a shark.”

  “And ugly as hell.” She shuddered. “Those are just… swimming around the river?”

  He stepped to the side of her and again, she was staring up at him. “All kinds of creatures swim in the river with you. But you’ll rarely if ever see any of them. Ever seen a sturgeon?”

  “A what now?”

  He nearly laughed. “White sturgeon. They look a bit like a shark but have no teeth and are gentle as hell.”

  “Are they in the ladders too?”

  “Smaller ones, sometimes. But not the big ones. Many were caught behind the dam and got land-locked after it was built. Directly below the dam are spawning grounds, so there are lots of them congregating here and downriver. There’s a display of it on the Oregon side of the dam.”

  “Big ones like the salmon?”

  “Bigger, like bigger than you or me.”

  “Inside the river? You’re saying some shark-like thing that’s bigger than me is just swimming all around?”

  “Harmless as that eel. They don’t even have teeth. They’re bottom dwellers.”

  He had her attention now. Who knew she’d enjoy a freaking fish tutorial so much? She nodded. “That’s so odd…”

  His phone rang just then and he slid it out from his pocket and glanced at it. “Let me check in with Randy, my brother. He’s watching Wyatt.”

  Duh. He had a son. Offspring. He was a father. He was everything she wasn’t. She backed up and gave him his privacy as he lifted the phone to his ear and turned to speak quietly. She wandered up towards what
turned out to be a museum. There were plenty of displays that included all kinds of fish from salmon to the sturgeon, as well as the history of each with pictures of this spot before the dam was built. The museum also provided elaborate information about the different Native American tribes of the region that inhabited the area before European explorers came.

  The terrain was also famous for the Lewis and Clark expedition that passed through there. Tara noticed the signs along the highway, advertising significant exhibits or lookout points in memory of the expedition. She also learned of travelers who traced their route and stopped at all of the same places. On and on, the detailed information about the area entranced her and she found even more to read.

  It occurred to her eventually that she’d been wandering from exhibit to exhibit, reading intently and more than a few minutes had passed. Panicked, she glanced around, wondering if Ryder had simply left her. No. She spotted him leaning against the wall, just past the museum. He was nonchalantly resting on his hip, with his shoulder against the cinderblock and his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze met hers. Waiting for her. Watching, actually. He’d been silently watching her. Weird. Why?

  She quickly abandoned her reading and nearly scurried towards him. Her footsteps were quiet on the thick carpet. “Sorry, I—I didn’t realize you were done. I was…”

  He moved off the wall and smiled with lazy ease. “You don’t have to apologize. I didn’t mind. I was just letting you see your fill. I know most of the displays.”

  “It’s a fascinating area. I had no idea. The amount of Native American history and traffic and culture alone, one could spend a few days reading it all.”

  “You seemed to be liking it.”

  “Yes. I did. I don’t, well, honestly, I’ve never done anything like this before. My family didn’t take tours or go to museums. They really didn’t give a crap about things like history. Or… fish.” Or anything else, really. “Do you need to go?”

  He fell into step with her, shaking his head. “No, Wyatt’s fine. He’s a little mad I came without him. This is his favorite place. We come here… a lot. You can’t even imagine.”

  A weird tug made her stomach flutter. His offhand comment touched her. He came here to specifically show her something that it sounded like he was sick of seeing. That was oddly sweet, endearing, and very gentleman-like. Yeah, so not how she was used to being treated.

  They dashed through the rain again and got into the truck. They started to drive back into town when the sky parted downriver and long beams of sunlight fell from the dark heavens. They shone over the water, making a misty spray of white above the water and horizon. The rain stopped and the world glimmered in the dazzling after-effects of a power-washing. The world was now being drizzled in sunlight. Blinding, it was almost impossible to see it all. “Wow, that’s pretty,” Tara said as she let out a breath of satisfaction. So rarely in her life did she notice or care about nature. But she never lived in a place with the magnificent sights like this. A normal, everyday part of one’s environment.

  “It is.” He nodded, and gave her a small glance with a smile. She smiled in return. Somehow, her praise obviously pleased him.

  “Where I grew up, there wasn’t anything so distinct as this area, with its giant river and dam and mountains and fish… then I lived in Downtown Seattle, and there were different things to see. It’s just so unlike here.”

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “A small town in northern California.”

  “What drew you to Seattle?”

  Better homeless services. But she bit her lip to keep that inside her mouth. “Just… you know, looking for better opportunities.”

  “Did you find them? I can’t imagine Silver Springs has more opportunities or better ones than a big city.”

  “I just got tired of the city. I wanted…” She waved her arms around. “This. I think I wanted space and beauty and a life that is more than just existing. Does that make any sense?”

  “Completely. And the café? You like working there?”

  “So much. Chloe is a fair, generous boss and I like the work too, and the people, and the money.”

  He tilted his head her way. “Not everyone finds serving the public fulfilling. It’s nice to hear, actually. I’m sure Chloe appreciates that too. Well, I know she does because she told me, but it’s nice to know you feel the same way too.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. They had discussed her? She was dying to know what else was said. Probably nothing.

  She had raised her entire level of living by working for Chloe, from decent food, to a roof overhead and she was even starting to afford some luxuries. The new shoes. She also bought new sheets and a soft new pillow. It was sinfully indulgent, to be honest. Everyone was respectful to her and polite and friendly. They were becoming much warmer towards her too. In the beginning, her reserve kept them at a distance from her, but it wasn’t from their lack of trying.

  “It’s the house on the right.” She pointed to her dwelling. Ryder nodded and pulled off to the side of the road.

  “Widow Huskin’s place, huh? She’s a decent lady. Her husband died ages ago, and she’s taken renters as long as that.”

  “She’s easy to live with. Pretty quiet and rarely leaves the place. Plus, she’s hard of hearing so I don’t have to be quiet, not that I do very much anyway. I try to run errands for her because she let me move in here with only the good faith that I would pay her what I owed her later. I didn’t have a first or last or… much of anything.”

  She glared down at her toes. Why? Why did she tell Ryder that? That she was so poor she came there with no more than the scraggly clothes on her back? He didn’t need to know any of that. It just might arouse his curiosity to look further into her. That would have been the worst thing to encourage. She could only stay here if they didn’t discover all of her lies.

  “Well, then, that’s nice she has you here to help her. That’s kind on both your parts.”

  “I’ve since paid up. The last month and the security for damages. She allowed me to make small payments every week,” she added. She wanted him to know she was no longer in the circumstances she’d been in when she’d first shown up in town. She smiled and added, “Thanks for stopping and for the tour.”

  “You’re welcome. See you, Tara.”

  Her step was light as she rushed inside to dry off more. She almost didn’t recognize herself in the mirror with the huge grin on her face. How long had it been since a goofy grin appeared on her face simply from having fun and interacting with someone else? A long time. Too long. Maybe even years. Then again, not much about her childhood and her days on the streets as a runaway could be labeled as something that would make anyone smile. Smiling? She didn’t do that much. Never had a reason to, and never got into the habit, so smiling was a rare sight. She’d often been told she’d be so much prettier if only she’d smile. That just made her scowl and grimace harder at whomever said it. No. No way was she trying to look prettier for anyone. Ever.

  But here? She could smile and it was something brand new. Something of value. Something she truly liked. She was not pleasing others or making herself look pretty now.

  Chapter Five

  MRS. HUSKIN, TARA’S LANDLADY, had a grandson named Lance who hung out often at the house. He mowed her lawn and did light maintenance, as well as keeping her company. He was about Tara’s age, but didn’t look it. Perhaps he had some kind of developmental delay. Tara wasn’t sure. He was always smiling, nice, kind, and helpful. Eager and friendly, he invariably had a big goofy grin anytime he ran into Tara. He was polite and his attention toward her was never aggressive so he didn’t make Tara’s skin crawl. He was friendly in a nonthreatening way. Which suggested he wasn’t interested in Tara for anything besides pleasant conversation.

  One afternoon, he was finishing up power washing Mrs. Huskin’s driveway and he asked Tara if she wanted to see an old cabin from a little-known explorer. He seemed so excited about it, she didn’
t have the heart to say no. Knowing she was new to the area, he seemed thrilled to take her on a hike so she could see a famous town landmark. She agreed to go because she didn’t have to work, didn’t have a TV, and her library reading, which occupied most of her free time, was all caught up. In other words, she went with him because she had no reason not to go.

  They left in his old pickup and he drove outside Silver Springs, away from the river and into an area with more fields. The wide open fields and pastures were often encircled by tall stands of trees, which led deeper into the woods and abounded with endless greenery. It was wild, mostly uninhabited terrain. He pulled over and parked so that they could begin a three-mile hike.

  On the way back, they came to a big, clear field. Tara hesitated as Lance pulled out a gun from the backpack he’d lugged with them. Shocked to see it, Tara exclaimed, “What are you doing?”

  Lance glanced at her with a smile, seemingly oblivious to her distress. “Gonna see if I can’t hit the center of that tree. See that black spot? I like to aim at it.”

  Tara’s hands started sweating and her brow and face flushed with heat, making her skin feel too tight to hold her insides. She hated guns. Being this close to one, and knowing he was about to unlaunch its power and fury, she all too vividly imagined its ability to pierce through a person’s skin and bones, draining all their blood and splattering their flesh and matter everywhere… She shut her eyes tightly as images of Jerome flashed through her brain. All she could see and hear were him and his screams before the numbing shock overtook her.

  Lance was unaware of her distress and didn’t hesitate for a moment to shoot off a round at the tree trunk. Tara backed up. Moving farther and farther away from it, she covered her ears, trying to block out the dreadful snap! that sounded more like an amplified roar to Tara’s ears. She detested the sound and the power and the deadliness of it. But Lance merely smiled before walking over to check the target he set for himself. Looking obviously quite pleased with his skills, he reloaded the weapon and did it again.

 

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