Nick UnCaged: Sanctuary, Book Four

by Abbie Zanders

  * * *

  Bree made it to Sanctuary quicker than expected. Perhaps it was because of the sense of anticipation she’d felt from the moment Nick suggested a field trip. Perhaps it was because driving the curvy mountain roads above the posted speed limit was so much fun. Sun shining, wind in hair, good music. When was the last time she’d been so excited about anything?

  Nick wasn’t in the parking lot when she arrived, but she was early. Should she go inside and let him know she was there? Or would it be better to wait in the lot?

  While Bree was pondering that, a woman exited the building. It wasn’t someone Bree had seen before. On the short side with shoulder-length chestnut hair, kept away from her face with a headband, dressed casually in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. The woman looked surprised to see Bree there and hesitated as if she was considering going back inside.

  “Hi,” Bree greeted with a small wave as she got out of the car.

  If there was one thing she’d learned, it was that when people didn’t want to talk to her, she definitely wanted to talk to them.

  “Hi,” the woman replied, stepping forward. “Nice car.”

  “Thanks. It’s a rental.” Bree glanced down and saw the simple gold band on the woman’s finger. “You wouldn’t happen to be Sam by any chance, would you?”

  On a face devoid of makeup, gray-green eyes widened in surprise and looked back at Bree. “Yes, I’m Sam.”

  “Nick said you’re the one who recommended the diner for dinner.”

  The woman nodded.

  “Thanks for that. The cobbler was fantastic.”

  “I’m glad you liked it.”

  “I’m supposed to meet Nick here. Do you know if he’s around?”

  “I’m sure he’s around somewhere.”

  “I’m Bree. Do you have a minute? I’d love to ask you a few questions.”

  Sam shifted her weight, as if nervous, but then nodded. “Sure. Okay.”

  They sat on the wide stone steps.

  “Nick said you’re married to one of the partners?”

  “Yes.”

  Bree waited for her to say more. She didn’t.

  “So, what’s your story? How did you two meet?”

  A tiny smile pulled at the corners of Sam’s lips, as if she found the memory pleasant. “I worked in a coffee shop in town. Steve used to come in for coffee and muffins for himself and the guys, back before they had a kitchen here.”

  “A coffee shop? Where? I’d kill for a good cup of coffee and decent Wi-Fi.”

  Sam’s smile faded. “It’s not there anymore. It burned down a few years ago.”

  What is it with this town and fires? “That’s a shame. So, tell me, when you first saw your husband, was it like in the movies? Love at first sight and all that?”

  Sam’s lips quirked again. “No, not like the movies. It took us a while. We became friends first, and things kind of grew from there.”

  “Gotta love a good slow-burn romance,” Bree said with a grin. “Was it an issue? Your friendship?”

  Sam’s brows creased. “How do you mean?”

  “Well, I get the impression that not everyone in Sumneyville is thrilled about Sanctuary. For some, it even seems to be an us versus them mentality. As a local girl, did that make things difficult for you?”

  More shifting. “I don’t really concern myself with what other people think.”

  “Commendable. I imagine that’s not always easy, especially in a small town.”

  Sam said nothing, her silence all the confirmation Bree needed.

  Bree decided to push forward. “What do they have against these guys anyway?”

  Sam looked down at her hands. “Have you asked any of them?”

  “Several,” Bree admitted. “But if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that small-town folk are wary of outsiders, myself included, and are cautious about what they share.”

  “So, you’re asking me?”

  “As a local and one of the owners, you’re the perfect person to talk to,” Bree told her. “You can see both sides.”

  Sam looked off toward the woods, almost as if she was wishing she could make a run for it. “Why does it matter? You’ve got your story, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know. Do I? Because on the surface, Sanctuary seems like a great place with good men and women doing good things.”

  “It is,” Sam confirmed.

  “But then why the rift?” Bree shook her head. “People don’t polarize without reason, whether it be real or imaginary. I can’t in good conscience write about how great this place is, knowing there’s an undercurrent of disquiet among the locals. Is it based in fear? Are these guys dangerous? A threat to the community or something?”

  “What?” Sam looked shocked. “No, of course not. Like you said yourself, they’re good guys.”

  “Then, help me understand. Off the record, okay? I just need to wrap my mind around this, so I can do this place justice.”

  Sam was close; she just needed some gentle coaxing. She stared off into the distance, as if deciding where to start. Bree waited patiently.

  “You have to understand that the Winstons were a popular, important family,” Sam finally began. “Their family history goes back to the founding of Sumneyville itself, and this resort was a big part of it. It was a real nice place. Fancy, too, but community-oriented. They often held celebrations around Christmas and the Fourth of July and invited the whole town.”

  Bree nodded encouragingly. “Sounds nice.”

  “It was,” Sam agreed with a sad smile. “When Matt went off into the service, there was a terrible fire. He lost his whole family, and the resort was destroyed.”

  “I read about that in the town’s history as part of my background research.”

  “Folks around here took it hard. The Winstons were active in the community and local politics. Their passing left holes that had to be filled. Matt was gone; no one expected him to return after what happened. So, other people stepped up, the town adjusted, and everyone went on. Matt’s return has stirred up a lot of old feelings and memories—some good, some not so good.”

  Everything Sam said jived with what Bree had heard in the salon. Any family as wealthy and powerful as the Winstons, even if they were highly regarded by the majority, would inspire resentment from a few—especially if they blamed the Winstons, rightly or wrongly, for their own lack of success. With the Winstons gone, so were the obstacles.

  “I take it, those who filled the holes aren’t quite as beloved as the Winstons.”

  “Not quite, no. Though, to be fair, I don’t think anyone could live up to their legacy. They were good people, very civic-minded.”

  Once again, Sam corroborated what Bree had already read and heard—that the prodigal son was carrying on the tradition by creating Sanctuary, becoming a thorn in the side of the hole-fillers in the process.

  “Do you think those reacting negatively toward Sanctuary are doing so because they feel threatened by Matt’s decision to remain?”

  “I don’t know what they think, Miss De Rossi, but I do know that asking questions like that isn’t likely to get you the answers you’re looking for.”

  “Lenny Petraski said something similar, though his analogy involved beehives and honey.”

  Sam stiffened visibly at the mention of the local cop, which Bree found more revealing that anything Sam had said.

  “You don’t think much of Lenny, huh?”

  “We’re not close. Different circles, I guess.”

  Before Bree could ask her to elaborate, Nick appeared from the woods on horseback with another animal in tow, effectively ending their conversation.

  “Thanks, Sam,” Bree said quietly. “I appreciate your candor.”

  Sam nodded. “When you’re asking your questions, just remember to consider the source.”

  With that cryptic statement, Sam waved to Nick and began walking toward the wooded area off to the left.

  Chapter Twenty-Four


  Cage

  Cage dismounted and watched Sam head off toward the woods to the cabin she shared with Smoke. The two women had looked to be in a serious discussion when he arrived, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it was about. He wasn’t worried though. Sam was one of them. She wouldn’t share anything they didn’t want shared.

  “You’re early.”

  Bree shrugged. “I finished sooner than expected and decided to come up. I hope that’s not a problem.”

  He patted the horse’s neck and pulled a pair of carrots from his pocket, giving one to each animal. “Not at all. Are you ready to begin your adventure?”

  Bree’s eyes grew wide. “Those are for us? We’re riding horses?”

  “Best way to get to where we’re going,” he said with a grin.

  “And where is that exactly?”

  “You’ll see soon enough.”

  Bree approached the horses, her steps slow and hesitant but her excitement tangible. Cage wondered if he’d done the right thing by planning a trail ride. After the way Bree’s eyes had lit up when she saw Heff riding during the tour, it had seemed like a good idea.

  The mare turned her head and lifted her snout, inviting Bree to pet her. Bree obliged, reaching up to stroke the animal’s neck. The look of childlike wonder on her face when the horse nuzzled her suggested he’d made the right call.

  “Have you ridden before?”

  “Once, when I was a kid. I’m not sure it counts though. It was a pony ride with a traveling circus. But I loved it.”

  He knew exactly what she meant; he been to a few of those himself.

  “Nothing to it.” He showed her how to put her foot in the stirrup and helped her up before swinging himself up on the larger horse beside her.

  “What do I do?”

  “Just hold on to the horn there and grip the reins loosely. Peaches will take care of everything else.”

  “Peaches, huh?” She stroked the mare’s cream-colored mane. “What’s your horse’s name?”

  “Herb.”

  “Wait. We’re riding Peaches and Herb?”

  “Yes.” He grinned back. “Long story.”

  He pressed his heels against the sides of the horse and tugged lightly on the reins. Herb moved forward, Peaches at his side.

  “Hey! I’m doing it!” Bree’s smile was brilliant.

  “Yes, you are. Just relax, hold on, and enjoy the ride.”

  Cage led them to a path through the woods, and within a matter of minutes, the rest of the world was left behind. They were surrounded by forest, and the air was pleasantly cool and fragrant. Shafts of sunlight pierced the thick canopy, giving everything a magical feel. The only sounds to be heard were the soft snorts of the horses and the clops of shoed hooves on the path. He kept the pace slow and a watchful eye on Bree. After only a short while, she seemed to relax.

  “You’re a natural,” he praised.

  He felt her resulting grin deep in his chest.

  “This is wonderful. Do you do this a lot?”

  “About once a week or so for trail and perimeter checks.”

  “Why do you do trail and perimeter checks?”

  He wasn’t about to get into the issues they’d had with the local malcontents sabotaging their equipment and doing damage, so he opted for a partial truth instead. “It’s a matter of safety. We like to keep the trails clear and hazard-free as well as ensure that the Private Property signage is visible and intact.”

  “Have a problem with trespassers, do you?” she pressed.

  “Sometimes, hunters wander in unaware, especially during deer season. We don’t want anyone getting shot inadvertently.”

  “You or them?”

  “Both.”

  After about half an hour or so, he stopped and dismounted, then helped Bree off her horse. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. He tried not to think too much about the feel of her waist beneath his hands or the way her small hands gripped his shoulders. When she looked up at him with those beautiful, dark eyes, he had an overwhelming urge to kiss her.

  He could do it. She seemed to be right there with him. But what if he were misreading signals? It would make the rest of their time together awkward, and he had a full agenda.

  Instead, he released her—dare he hope that there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes?—and took the reins of both horses, leading them to a natural mountain spring just off the path.

  He handed her a canteen. “Fill ’er up.”

  “Is it safe?” she asked skeptically.

  “Best water there is. Try it.”

  He filled his own canteen and drank deeply, challenging her to do the same. She did, sipping tentatively at first and then drinking more.

  “You’re right; it is good. I probably shouldn’t drink so much though. I don’t imagine there’s a restroom around here anywhere.”

  He pointed to a clump of bushes. “Sure there is. Right there.”

  She scrunched up her nose. “I had to do that when my rental car broke down and I couldn’t hold it any longer. I spent the next twenty-four hours hoping I wouldn’t wind up with poison ivy.”

  He laughed. “I can tell you from personal experience that you really don’t want that.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did. Let me tell you, it’s not a mistake you make twice.”

  “I bet,” she murmured.

  “No worries though,” he said with a wink. “I’m a seasoned pro now. Should you feel the need, I’d be happy to pre-inspect whatever location you like.”

  Once the horses were watered, he led them to a shady area a little farther on, then tied them loosely, and grabbed a large rucksack from one of the saddlebags.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Stuff.”

  “What stuff? Where are we going?”

  “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

  “Kind of my job,” she reminded him, amusement in her voice.

  Somehow, he had to remember that. It was difficult, especially when she kept distracting him with smiles.

  “So it is. Come then and get your answers.”

  He slung the rucksack over his shoulders and reached out. She took his hand, and once again, he felt a telltale tingle from the contact. He led them up a boulder-strewn incline, emerging onto a large, flat stone.

  “Wow.”

  She stepped out onto the scenic overlook, getting a bird’s-eye view of the miles of Sumneyville valley below. He pointed out birds and explained migratory paths while they shared a snack.

  Afterward, Bree leaned back on her hands, closed her eyes, and lifted her face to the sun. Cage took a moment to enjoy the view himself. She really was a beautiful woman. Relaxed, a hint of a smile on her face, the glints of purple amid the shiny black of her hair. He no longer simply felt the desire to kiss her. He imagined crawling on top of her body and pressing his lips to the delicate column of her neck ... working his way down her body inch by luscious inch ... enjoying a snack of his own until her cries of pleasure joined those of the birds of prey circling around them.

  Unnerved by the intensity of his desire to do just that, he got to his feet and once again put out his hand. “We should get moving.”

  One eye blinked open and peered at him; her lips turned downward. “We don’t have to go already, do we?”

  “We do if we want to make it to the campsite.”

  “Campsite?” Both eyes opened, and she sat up excitedly. “You mean, there’s more?”

  There were so many things he wanted to show her. To share with her. Things that were part of his daily life now. He just hoped he could keep his baser urges in check, so he didn’t screw it up.

  “Much more.”

  She took his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet. In those moments, time seemed to stand still. There, on the rocky overlook, the rest of the world faded away as he got lost in those dark eyes. It would be so easy to lean down, press his lips to hers, and see if they were as soft as they loo
ked.

  A hawk squawked from just overhead, breaking the spell. He gently tugged on her hand and led her down the rocky incline, glad for the excuse to keep touching her.

  They remounted the horses and took a circuitous path through the woods. After another thirty minutes, he stopped at a clearing. She took in the fire ring he’d constructed of flat stones and the hammock he’d hung between two trees. A conveniently placed fallen log—one he’d recently planed down—provided a natural bench nearby.

  “You come here a lot, huh?”

  He nodded. This was one of his favorite spots to chill. His trailer was only about fifty yards through the trees, but she had no way of knowing that.

  “Is that ... a tree house?” she asked, looking over his shoulder.

  “A tree house?” he gasped in mock horror.

  “Well, what do you call it then?”

  “It’s a tactical observation platform.”

  One corner of her mouth pulled into a smirk that made him want to kiss her even more. “What are you tactically observing all the way out here?”

  “Maybe I’ll show you later, if you promise not to call it a tree house again.”

  “Hmph.”

  He chuckled. Deliberately avoiding direct answers to rile her had become a new favorite pastime.

  “I’m going to feed the horses. Gather some kindling, would you?” He paused and then added, “Those are thin, dry sticks for starting a fire, city girl.”

  “I know what kindling is. Why do we need it?”

  “So we can build a fire and cook our dinner. You want the full experience, don’t you?”

  He hid his grin as she began to walk around the area, picking up sticks and branches. Once the horses were taken care of, he moved to a camouflaged wooden box and extracted an ax, and then he began splitting previously cut logs into smaller pieces for the fire.

  It was all for show, of course. He already had enough firewood to last through the winter. The Paul Bunyan routine had been Heff’s suggestion. Cage had been skeptical, but he had to admit, Heff was pretty smart when it came to the ladies. The fact that he caught Bree ogling him several times was proof of that.