by Geri Krotow
“Patience, please know I’m here to protect you. You’re safe.”
She shot him a sharp look. “I know. Why are you saying that?”
“You’ve been wound tight since you saw the murder. That’s understandable, but you don’t have to carry that worry. Let me do it for you.”
“You’re not the one with the target on your back.” Her sharp reply communicated her fear.
“True. But if you can’t totally let it go, at least let me shoulder some of it with you.” It was tricky convincing her to trust him. So far he’d failed at keeping the murderer from coming after her. And then there was the pregnancy; she hadn’t wound up pregnant on her own. He owed her at least a sense of personal safety.
“Fair enough.” She turned toward the kitchen area and he followed.
The cabin was rustic in all the right places—the log walls, river-stone fireplace and chimney, a cast-iron teakettle on the six-burner gas stove. But it was a fully modernized home, too. Granite counters and a solid butcher block–covered island, stainless steel kitchen appliances. Even the fireplace, as authentic as it was, had a gas insert.
“Go ahead and flick on the fire if you want. It’ll take the chill out of the room. The top switch is for the flames and the bottom for the fan, to circulate it through the great room.”
Nash hit the switches and watched the fire ignite.
“Not what you expected?” She spoke from the kitchen, but she must have been watching his reaction, his smile when, with a touch of his finger, the old-fashioned country fireplace lit up as if he’d stoked it all night.
“When you said cabin, I envisioned something more plain, quite frankly.”
“Trust me, this was all that when I purchased it. The kitchen and back bedrooms are the only original parts of the building. I had the front wall knocked out to create the great room area, and added on the porch. Before, it served as no more than a hunter’s hideaway.”
“How did you find it?”
“While I was in vet school in California, I used to keep an eye on rural homes in this area. I always intended to return to Red Ridge, even though my father never believed me. He thought that once I lived in California long enough I’d never want to come back here.”
“Why did you come back?”
She regarded him. The midday sun reflected in her eyes and brought out the amber sparks. The rich color belied the shadows under her eyes, and a sharp pang of guilt hit him. The mother of his future child needed to rest.
“My calling is to heal animals. I’ve known it since I was a very young child. For a while I wasn’t sure if I could do it.” As he stared at her, silent, she went on, “Animals have been my solace throughout my life. My parents had a volatile relationship, and after my mother died, my father had a slew of women he dated, some more seriously than others. As I’m sure you know, he married and divorced several times. It made life unpleasant, depending upon the wife. Our dogs and horses kept me going. I knew I’d only be happy if I could work with animals as an adult.”
It was easy to imagine her as a young girl, with the same big brown eyes and flame-touched caramel hair. “Before I had to take care of my brothers and sisters, I wouldn’t have appreciated what you’re telling me as much. I understand now how much kids value security, routine.” He swallowed around the perplexing lump that had formed in his throat. “I’m glad you had your pets to help you through it.” The thought of any of his siblings having to search for love from an animal instead of their parents or him made him ache. And feel angry for Patience’s sake at the same time.
“It wasn’t just my pets. They were wonderful, and pets are great companions. But I love them all—farm, domestic, wild. All animals fill my soul.”
“Even the bears?”
She grinned. “Yeah. Even the bears. Although I don’t have any desire to run into one out here. I keep a bullhorn by the front door for that reason.”
“To scare them off.” He thought it was ingenious, but would feel better if she had a weapon. “You know, a rifle—”
She held up both hands. “Hold it. I get that you’re law enforcement and used to being around firearms. I’m not antigun, in that way. Around these parts, we all learn to use rifles early on for good reason. And it’s not that I’m against having a rifle out here to protect myself from bears and the occasional mountain lion. I just don’t need one. I haven’t ever come close to being targeted by an animal on this mountain. The bears pass through every spring, and I’m always extra careful to make a lot of noise so that I never surprise a mama or her cubs. And you know as well as I do that there’s enough wildlife and plants to support them. They don’t have to come after me or try to break into the cabin for a meal.”
“It’s just that...you have more than yourself to consider now.”
She wiped her eyes with her hands and her shoulders sagged in exhaustion. Guilt gut punched him.
“I’m sorry, Patience. You need rest.” As did he, but he wasn’t carrying their child. “Mind if I look around the rest of the place? Why don’t you go get a hot shower, then settle in to sleep?”
“I don’t mind at all. Go ahead, make yourself at home. A shower sounds good. There’s actually two showers, so don’t hesitate to take one yourself if you’d like. I’ve installed a flash heater so the hot water never runs out.”
“Thanks. I’ll take you up on that.” Later, after he was certain she was asleep. He’d post Greta on guard at the front door.
While Patience showered, he poked around inside and outside the cabin. Built on a solid rock-and-concrete foundation, it was impenetrable except through the front door and the bedroom windows. There was a loft above the great room where she’d set up a technically up-to-date office. It also had a sleeper sofa, and provided an eagle’s-eye view of the front door. It would be the perfect place for him to bunk, with Greta taking the ground floor.
Getting to Red Ridge each morning was going to be trickier and, in all truth, a pain. They’d have to budget their time and coordinate shifts. Because no way was he going to let Patience commute on her own. He was going to stick to her like pine tar in June until they caught the killer.
He pulled his phone out to call the kids and see how his aunt and uncle were managing. The thing was, he hadn’t thought much at all about his siblings until now. He knew they were safe and well taken care of. He was more worried about Patience and what all this stress was doing to the baby.
And if he were really being honest with himself, he wasn’t convinced he’d be able to stay under the same roof as her without touching her again. Being around her roused his desire, and it wasn’t something he could boil down to basic horniness or physical need. He was hot for one woman, and she happened to be naked under the shower just one flight of stairs down from the loft he stood in.
This was going to be a challenging mission.
* * *
Patience had never felt more tired than she did as the hot water massaged her neck and shoulders. She’d wanted a long hot bath and had a soaking tub to do it in, but was too worn-out to contemplate filling it. And she couldn’t risk falling asleep in the water. Not that the constant nagging sensation of being stalked would allow it. Nash had taken evasive measures to ensure they weren’t followed, and it made sense that the killer would lie low for a while, until the hunt for him wasn’t so intense. Maybe she could catch a few hours of sleep.
If she wasn’t so tired she would have giggled at Nash’s expression when he saw the cabin, especially the interior. Layla had reacted the same way when she’d first seen the transformation Patience made. As much as she’d paid for every single cent of her education, including vet school, she’d not felt an iota of guilt for taking the loan out and making the cabin exactly how she wanted it. Her pay was excellent and it wasn’t as though she needed it to feed a family. So she’d sunk her first earnings into the cabin.
Thinking a
bout her paycheck reminded her that her father had mentioned that future funding for the K9 clinic wasn’t a guarantee. It had been a huge part of the family blowup they’d had right before her fateful night with Nash. Layla had assured her that the clinic remained a top priority of Colton Energy, and that Layla’s fiancé would solve everything.
Patience shut off the shower and reached for a towel. How she and Layla had both come from the same DNA was beyond her. They were close and loved one another, but her sister put money and business ahead of all else in her life. Layla’s agreement to remain engaged to smarmy Hamlin Harrington was a clue that she cared more about Colton Energy than herself.
Patience dried off and put on the long johns she kept at the cabin. Her stomach, which she hadn’t even thought twice about before she took the pregnancy test yesterday, was definitely more pronounced, but not so much that it affected her stretchy clothes. Yet. Her scrubs and workout clothes were more forgiving, but no way could she squeeze into her favorite jeans. She ran her hand over her belly, musing over the fact that an entire human being grew in there.
She sat on her bed, thinking about getting a cup of hot tea before she turned in. But fighting her comfy surroundings was too much.
The wrought iron bed frame that she’d found in an antiques store in Sioux Falls and painted white offset the fluffy comforter and pillows with her favorite floral pattern. She knew she needed to talk to Nash more, reassure him that it was totally okay with her that he wasn’t interested in being a father, but sleep beckoned.
As she slid between her flannel sheets, the last thing she thought about was phoning the clinic when she woke up, to check on her patients. Especially Fred. That made her mind flash to the cold, heartless eyes of the killer, and his voice calling out, “Where are you, you bitch?” as he stormed the building. But even that didn’t keep her awake.
* * *
Nash heard the complete silence settle on the cabin like a down blanket not long after the water stopped. He shoved aside any sense of politeness or healthy boundaries as he went and checked to make sure Patience was okay. Her form was still under a mound of covers in the decidedly feminine master bedroom. It was a grown-up version of the room Maeve and Paige shared, which they’d decorated before their parents died.
Patience was down for the count, or at least for several hours, so he put a cup of decaf coffee on to brew, thanks to the ultramodern machine in the kitchen, and took Greta for a quick walk on the property. They’d missed dinner, but sleep was more important at this point. The surrounding woods were dense and definitely a deterrent to a casual trespasser, hunting or hiking. Nothing was impenetrable to a professional criminal, however, and Nash’s instinct told him the murderer was definitely experienced. He hadn’t handled many murder cases in his decade-long career, but the Groom Killer had changed that. Nash had seen enough lately to know that the lake murder was no random event. Nor was the way the bad guy had tried to dispose of the victim.
Nash’s phone buzzed as he came back to the house and he took the call from Finn.
“Sir. Maddox speaking.”
“Nash, I want to thank you and Greta for your hard work last night and this morning. How’s our favorite K9 veterinarian doing?” Chief Colton had ordered Nash to stay with Patience until they caught the Lake Killer.
“She’s doing better, sound asleep at the moment. We’re at her private cabin, about forty minutes out from Red Ridge. I’ll be commuting in with her until the coast is clear.”
“Sounds like a plan. We’re going to need you and Greta when we comb the lake for any other unknown victims. It’s already getting too late to go in and do it properly today, and I’m not sure about tomorrow, as we have to wait on the state unit to back us up, but we’ll be set within forty-eight hours. Get some rest and we’ll see you by daybreak.”
“Yes, sir.” He made a mental note to check out his dive gear, which he kept in a locker at the RRPD.
They disconnected. Nash retrieved his coffee from the kitchen, noting that the house was still peacefully silent. Good. Patience needed the sleep.
Greta raised her head from her front paws to look at him when he stepped back out onto the porch. She’d taken up almost half the space, obviously needing her rest, too. But she’d never be fully asleep, he knew. Greta always had at least one ear listening for trouble.
“You’re a good girl, Greta. Chief says good job for yesterday.” He rubbed the top of her head and behind her ears as she languidly thumped her tail against the wooden floor.
He sighed as he sat and put his feet up on the porch railing, settling into the rocking chair with the cup of coffee he’d made. Seeing Patience’s flowery room reminded him of the girls, and then the boys. All four were fine and had made it to school, according his aunt and uncle. He wished he could let any worry for them go, but it was impossible.
The girls were seventeen and fifteen. Paige would be out of the house and in college this time next year. It was early in her senior year, but all indications were that she’d be getting into her first choice—Pennsylvania State. She wanted to go away, and while he supported all the kids in going to whatever schools they could get into, he wished she’d picked a place like Sioux Falls. As hard as the past few years had been, he’d grown attached to his siblings more than he’d ever dreamed. He was going to miss her. And it wouldn’t be long before Maeve would follow on her heels. She’d already begun to apply to the US Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland. She wanted to be a navy fighter pilot.
At least the younger two—Troy and Jon, twelve and thirteen—were going to keep him busy as they grew from boys to young men. With them being complete opposites, he often had to juggle taking them to either Jon’s soccer team practices or Troy’s card games at the local game store. Both wanted to go to college someday, but for different reasons. Jon wanted to earn a full-ride athletic scholarship and become a sports journalist. Troy wanted to develop video games. If Nash could harness their combined energy and abilities, it’d pay for all four kids’ college and graduate school expenses. He smiled as he looked out on the dozens of tall fir trees that guarded the cabin.
The serenity lulled him and he actually felt the tension drain out of his frame for the first time in days. But the chill in the air wasn’t conducive to napping, and besides, he needed solid downtime. He stood and stretched.
“Come on, Greta. You can keep watch from inside.”
He’d have to ignore the constant pull of Patience’s presence from her bedroom, the hum of awareness in the air whenever she was around. Otherwise he’d never get to sleep.
Chapter 7
Patience woke up in a darkened room, and from her smart watch saw that it was almost morning. She’d slept straight through the night. The October days were getting shorter and shorter, and under the canopy of the mountain forest it was more pronounced.
She slipped out of the bed and donned sweatpants and a hoodie over her long underwear, needing the extra layers. It was time to light up the heater.
Only after she pulled socks on did she remember everything. The shock of finding out she was pregnant. The murderer dumping his victim into a frigid lake as if he were throwing garbage over the side. Her frantic call to dispatch. Nash.
Nash.
She leaned on the door frame before she left her room, forcing herself to take several deep breaths. It was a calming technique they all learned during stress-management training at the RRPD or at the K9 clinic. And usually it worked. The slight tremble she felt, no matter how calm the moment, was caused by something she couldn’t help. The worry of being killed, of course. That wasn’t going to ease up until the Lake Killer was apprehended.
Her attraction to Nash wasn’t letting up anytime soon, either. And he was here with her.
“Let it go.” She forcefully expelled air, trying to clear her mind as she emptied her lungs.
The cabin’s sense of security enveloped her.
She padded as softly as possible down the short corridor to the kitchen and great room. Nash had to be sleeping; he’d looked exhausted before she’d gone in for her shower. She stopped in the kitchen, pushed the heat button on the thermostat and set a pot of coffee to brew.
The silhouette of Greta’s great head drew her attention to the far wall, under the large picture window that had been part of the cabin’s renovation three years ago. Greta faced the window as she monitored the porch and woods, but looked over her hulking shoulder to acknowledge Patience’s arrival.
Patience offered the dog a grin before she put her finger to her lips. She looked up at the loft and saw Nash’s form was stretched out along the leather sofa, a thin throw over his torso and thighs. He hadn’t even unfolded the sleeper into a bed. She stifled a giggle at the length of his frame on the couch, and went back down the hall to the guest room, where she yanked the comforter off the double bed.
Her intention was to cover Nash with the much more substantial blanket, but she paused once she’d crept up the steps to the loft, loath to wake him. She stood in front of the sofa, the thick down throw in her arms.
He looked so peaceful in sleep. Definitely Nash, and unquestionably masculine, but serene. His face was smooth, with no indication of the lines that often stamped it during the day. There was no sign of the professional hard-ass she’d witnessed in action last night, or early this morning. Nash Maddox was 100 percent male. She let her gaze drift over him, his form only half-concealed by the afghan her sister had crocheted. She paused her observation where his T-shirt rode up, exposing rock-hard abs covered with dark hair. Her breath caught and she let the thrill of sexual awareness run through her. His stomach teased her, shooting a pang of longing through her as she fought to keep her fingers from reaching out and—
