Broken Trust

by Shannon Baker

  Creak, thump. Creak, thump. First the rubber tips of the crutches and then Cole appeared in her doorway. He grinned. “Too bad your office isn’t on the first floor.”

  She pecked the keys of her computer with her one good hand. “And too bad I don’t have voice-recognition software.”

  He bent over his crutches and scratched Abbey’s ears. “We’re in pretty sorry shape.”

  Nora pressed Send. “But happy to be alive.”

  Cole shook his head and eyed Nora. “I can’t get over how a gust of wind could have knocked him over the side like that.”

  It wasn’t the first time Cole seemed skeptical. He never saw the kachina, of course, but didn’t quite buy a freak gust. Oh well, he could blame his fuzziness on the concussion he got when Petal shot him and he banged his head on a rock falling down. She switched topics. “I stopped in to see Daniel this morning.”

  He leaned on his crutches. “Just came from there myself.”

  “Any change?” She hoped Cole had good news but she didn’t expect it.

  “Still in a coma.”

  Neither one spoke for a moment. Nora sent a silent prayer into the universe and wondered if Cole did too.

  Cole lumbered to one of the wicker chairs and sank down. “I thought about bringing you coffee but didn’t have enough hands for all of that.”

  She shook her head. “I’m off the coffee for a while. I’m afraid there might be more than cream in it.”

  Fay poked her head into Nora’s office and croaked. “What do I need to know before you leave?”

  Nora pointed to her corn plant. “He needs to be watered every few days. He likes it if you sing to him.”

  Fay questioned with her eyes.

  “Okay, just talk when you give him water.” Nora had turned into one of those eccentric plant ladies. Next thing you know she’d be wearing purple hats and talking to herself. She caught sight of the purple ski cap she’d worn that morning. At least she had dogs and plants to talk to.

  And Cole. She had him to talk to.

  “Anything else?” Fay asked.

  “The bills are paid, payroll is set to go out at the end of next week. I’ll be back in time for the staff meeting on the tenth.”

  Fay nodded.

  “I’ll check in every couple of days by cell.”

  “Gotcha. Have a good time.” Fay waved and left.

  A good time wasn’t necessarily what Nora sought.

  Cole studied her. “You sound like a real live Executive Director.”

  “I am a real live Executive Director.”

  “Does it feel good to be in charge again?”

  She laughed. “Again? When have I ever really been in charge of anything?”

  Cole grew serious. “So you’re leaving for the rez today?”

  She turned her computer off. “Abigail is supposed to pick me up any minute. Charlie’s been bugging her for the last three weeks to get home.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  The anxiety surged and she stood to shake it off. “Two weeks. I’ll stay with Benny’s cousin. Well, my cousin, I guess.”

  “Total Hopi immersion. I won’t know you.”

  Ask. Do it. She braced herself. “Will you be here when I get back?”

  His ears turned red. “Do you want me to be?”

  She trembled and a tornado roared in her brain. Commitment. Saying yes sunk her deeper. It was a bigger deal than even caring for Abbey.

  What a drama queen!

  If she could face down her fear of the mountain and embrace the strangeness of Hopi, maybe she could take this one more step. “I’d like that.”

  His grin widened. “Do you promise I won’t get shot again?”

  She shook her head. “With as much certainty as you can guarantee you won’t break my heart.”

  He pulled himself up. Creak, thump. Creak, thump.

  Nora waited. Her skin tingled with anticipation; her heart stuttered a giddy cadence. Wait a minute. That didn’t feel like fear. It didn’t smell of panic. She remembered happy, and this felt strangely like that.

  Creak, thump.

  He finally stood close enough that she felt the heat of him through his flannel shirt. His smile faded and his eyes turned that deep blue she recognized. He leaned forward and brushed his lips softly against hers. “Nora Abbott,” he whispered, “you are dangerous.”

  She closed her eyes and inhaled the warmth of him. She stepped even closer and wound her good arm around his neck. Even in the city he smelled of outdoors, fresh air, pines, a breeze.

  His crutches banged on the floor as he gently slid his arms around her, careful of her broken arm.

  He bent his head to hers and kissed her in a way that promised more. “I guess you’re worth a bullet or two.”

  about the author

  Since starting the Nora Abbott Mystery Series, Shannon Baker has lived in Flagstaff, Arizona; Boulder, Colorado; and Tucson, Arizona. She now makes her home in a small Nebraska town. She is a member of Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers, Sisters in Crime, and Mystery Writers of America. Visit her online at Shannon-Baker.com.

  Author photo by Kelly Weaver Photography.

  acknowledgments

  What happens when three brilliant writers go on a retreat with one very stressed and confused scribbler who can’t plot herself out of a one-tree forest? A book series upon which my name gets listed as the author. Without the creative force of The Sisters of the Quill, Nora Abbott would be hiding in a computer file, growing pale and gaunt. Thank you to Janet Fogg, Julie Kaewart, and Karen Lin for giving Nora a chance to live and breathe.

  Thank you to Midnight Ink and Terri Bischoff. A writer couldn’t have a better friend and editor. A giant hug to Nicole Nugent, who sweeps up and sets everything to a fine polish, and to Robert Rodriguez for another rocking cover. You guys make me look good!

  A huge thank you to Jessica Morrell, who slowly, patiently, and wisely is teaching me how to write.

  I bow to Boulder County Deputy Russ Nanney, who not only helped me with the nuts-and-bolts law stuff, he found Sylvia’s sweet gun. Even though I’m kind of afraid of firearms, that’s one I wouldn’t mind packing!

  To my Alpha litter-mates, Alan Larson and Janet Lane: your keen eyes and discerning taste have made this a much better book. Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers, hands-down the best writers group ever, encouraged and informed me from the very beginning of my writing journey and still do today.

  Thank you to the Grand Canyon Trust. You took this cattle-ranching Nebraska brain and showed it a different way to think. May you continue to do good things for the Colorado Plateau.