Secrets at Cedar Cabin

by Colleen Coble

  “Can’t really blame him.” Grayson drained the spaghetti and dumped it in a bowl, then added the sauce before pulling the garlic bread from the oven. “Let’s eat.”

  There were no easy answers about Jason. If his eyesight didn’t come back, the future would be a hazy road to travel.

  The cabin already looked better. Bailey parked her car and studied the repaired roof. Lily sat beside her with her wrinkled hands clutching the picture album in her lap. She hadn’t let go of it since Bailey found the picture of Mom and baby Bailey. The clouds had swept into Lily’s eyes and stayed there. Bailey couldn’t leave her home alone, not in her confused state, so she’d bundled her into the car and brought her down for dinner.

  She opened Lily’s door and helped her out. “I got a few groceries and ice for the cooler. I thought I’d make turkey sandwiches for lunch. Are you hungry, Lily?”

  When the old woman didn’t answer, Bailey sighed and led her inside the cabin. She got her settled on the sofa, then checked on Sheba and found her sleeping under the bed. Bailey followed the sound of pounding on the back of the cabin where Lance knelt hammering new boards onto the deck. She watched him for a moment while he was too focused to notice her.

  Nice-looking guy. Obviously muscular but not overly bulky—just the perfect amount of muscles. His big hands were making short work of the job at hand. His Seahawks sweatshirt made her smile. Were all guys sports fans? A lock of his nearly black hair fell over his forehead, and his dark eyes focused on his task.

  He might have a bit of Asian blood in him, though it was hard to tell for sure. He seemed the dependable type, but she was clearly not a good judge of men. Look how Kyle had taken her in. Still, this guy seemed like the stand-up kind. She liked him.

  She cleared her throat. “You made it back.”

  He smiled at her. “I’ve gotten a lot done already. I didn’t notice any power coming on though.”

  “I can’t get it on until Monday, just like we thought.”

  He swiped the back of his arm over his damp forehead. “Still a lot more to do. I’ve barely made a dent in this deck, but at least the roof will keep you dry.”

  “I’m about to make turkey sandwiches for lunch. You hungry?”

  He dropped his hammer onto the deck and stood. “I could eat a horse. I meant to bring a sandwich but left it in the fridge. I appreciate your offer to feed me. It’s not your fault I planned so poorly.”

  “I have an ulterior motive.” She stepped through the back door he held open for her and gestured to Lily, who had fallen asleep on the sofa with the photo album clutched to her chest. “I wondered what you knew about her. How long have you been neighbors?”

  He turned his back to her and went to sluice water over his hands from a bottle. It was several moments before he replied. “I live on the road the next mile over. I haven’t run into her much. Sorry not to have more information, but I could ask around. Are you searching for her family?”

  “Family, friends, someone who might be able to make a decision about her. She needs to be in full-time care. One of these days she’ll wander off into the woods and not be found until spring. I’m surprised it hasn’t already happened.”

  “She’s that bad?” He faced her. “I haven’t been around anyone with this kind of condition. Is it Alzheimer’s?”

  “Probably. Some kind of severe dementia, but a doctor would have to make the final diagnosis. I’d lay money on Alzheimer’s though. I see it all the time at my work.”

  “Your work?”

  “I’m a geriatric nurse.”

  He winced. “That takes a special kind of person to be willing to deal with that. What made you choose geriatrics?”

  No one had ever asked her that before, and she felt tongue-tied to admit what had driven her in her heart of hearts. “I always wanted grandparents, so every time we moved, I found an elderly couple in my neighborhood to hang out with while Mom was at work. We moved so often many took me in and nurtured a lonely little girl.”

  His dark eyes shadowed. “That’s hard.”

  She shrugged. “I grew to love elderly people. So much wisdom, so much unconditional love to share. That’s the thing with the elderly—by the time they’re facing their own mortality, they’ve learned the true value of love and acceptance. I often didn’t feel that from my mom.”

  Her face heated, and she moved toward the stove. Why was she sharing such personal stuff with this guy? She didn’t know him from Adam, but he had such a compassionate manner. It wasn’t something she’d ever noticed in a man before. Of course they moved so much she hadn’t gotten past the barely-getting-to-know-you phase.

  “I think you’re right. Good grandparents give you the ability to find your wings and reach for the sky,” he said behind her. “My grandparents always encouraged me to trust my instincts and work hard.”

  So he did understand. She’d thought he would. What would he think if he knew the situation she’d left behind in Rock Harbor? She trusted her instincts when she fled here, but she’d made enough bad decisions that she wasn’t sure her instincts were trustworthy.

  Chapter 13

  When Lance dropped onto the dock, the sun hadn’t come up yet. He rubbed gritty eyes as the first rays of gold and orange rose above the water. An early morning ferry motored across the water in the distance, and the smell of diesel mingled with the scent of salt and kelp. He huddled in his jacket from the wind and took out his phone to review his calendar.

  The date hit him. November 10, Ava’s twenty-first birthday. And he was no closer to finding her than he was at this time last year. There would be no big birthday bash for her, no presents. He’d told himself if he found her by her birthday, he would buy her a car and had saved money for it all year.

  The bleakness of a lifetime spent searching for his sister and never finding her stretched out in front of him like a desert without water. But the not knowing was impossible to live with. He had to find her. Absolutely had to, no matter what it took.

  His phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and winced. “Hey, Mom. How you doing?” The sob on the other end told him everything he needed to know. “I’m having a rough morning too.” The sun’s rays began to warm his chilled skin.

  It was another moment before her choked voice came through the phone. “Did you talk to your father?” Even after all these years in the States, she still held on to a trace of her Cambodian accent.

  “No, not yet.”

  Every birthday he dutifully called his parents to let them know he remembered, too, that he hadn’t forgotten his quest.

  “Any word today?”

  “I feel we’re getting closer.”

  “That’s what you say every time I ask. We’re never going to know what happened to her, are we? We never should have fought with her like that.”

  “And then what? You let her do whatever she wanted, go out with some older guy without a word? She’d still be gone if you did that, Mom. It’s not your fault. Ava was young and stupid like every teenager. You can’t fix that yourself. Only experience helps that teenage idiocy. I had it too.”

  “You never argued with us like that.”

  “No, I just sneaked out.” He rubbed his forehead. “Let go of the guilt, Mom. It’s ruining your life.” There was no answer on the other end. “Mom?”

  “I’m here. Listen, I have to go, Lance. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  The call ended before he could say good-bye, and he sat staring at the blank screen. A sob built in his throat, and he choked it down until all that emerged was a strangled sound.

  He picked up a rock and threw it as hard as he could into the silvery waves. He closed his eyes a moment, then took out his small pocket Bible.

  Sheba bounded ahead of Bailey on the path through the woods, then romped back to circle her feet. Savannah cats loved exercise, and Bailey was always amazed at how far her cat could leap after the ball. The sunshine was hot on her arms today, warming the chill from last night’s low of
forty-five. Lily had been here for three nights now and was still sleeping when Bailey left the cabin to take the cat for a walk.

  She’d trained Sheba to the leash, but the cat preferred the freedom of chasing small animals and leaves, so Bailey let her run free. Sheba never wandered far because she was so tightly focused on Bailey.

  She hid and let Sheba find her several times before she walked down to the water. She heard a sound, almost like a sob, and stopped to listen. A flash of blue caught her eye, and she saw a figure sitting on the side of the dock. She squinted through the trees. Lance. He had his head buried in his hands, and the dejected pose tugged her forward.

  She stepped out of the canopy of trees, and he straightened at the creak of her feet on the wood. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” His clipped voice warned her off. He tucked what appeared to be a small Bible into the pocket of his flannel shirt.

  She stepped closer. “Sometimes it helps to talk to someone.” Her heart clenched at the sorrow on his face. Whatever grief dogged him, it made tears well in her eyes too.

  He rose and pivoted toward her. “You can’t help with this, though I appreciate the concern. I was waiting until you were up before I got to work.”

  She examined his hooded eyes and pinched mouth. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  “I brought my nail gun today. That will make repairing the deck faster.”

  She wasn’t going to pry it out of him, so she gave a mental shrug. “Sounds good. I have to go check on a new patient today.”

  Sheba gave a momentous leap from the ground to a tree branch, and Lance’s eyes widened. “That’s no house cat.”

  “She’s bred from an African serval and a house cat. Her breeding is F1, which means she’s a first generation. These cats retain more of the wild characteristics of a serval.”

  “Is she likely to hurt someone? She’s big enough to do some damage.”

  “She’s gentle and loyal. Savannahs are playful and very focused on their owners. Crazy smart too. She plays hide-and-seek and fetch. Now if you try to hurt me, she might take you on.”

  “I’ll remember that. She’s pretty with those spots.”

  He’d successfully steered the conversation away from his obvious distress, so Bailey hid a small grin and veered toward the house. “Lily is still asleep in the bedroom, but I’m sure she’ll be up shortly. You can start whenever you’d like.”

  “There’s only one bedroom. Where did you sleep?”

  “The sofa.”

  “What are you going to do about her?” His voice was gentle.

  She looked away, unwilling to tell him of the familial relationship yet. “I’m not sure. Try to find her family for one thing, maybe friends. I have some ideas on where to start. Someone needs to know about her condition. I can’t just let her wander the wilderness. She’ll end up dying of exposure.”

  “You just got here, yet you made it your business to take charge of her.”

  “There’s no one else.”

  “That wouldn’t matter to most people.”

  “And there you have why I became a nurse.” She forced a chuckle. “I’m a busybody and get involved when I shouldn’t.”

  “I didn’t say you shouldn’t. You put the rest of us to shame.”

  She tilted a glance up at him as they walked through the fallen leaves toward the house. “I don’t think you would have ignored her plight. You were on my doorstep offering help before I barely had a chance to look around the cabin. We’re two of a kind.”

  He glanced away as if her praise made him uncomfortable. “Lily’s up.”

  She followed his gaze and saw the elderly woman wandering the yard. She had a mug in her hand, probably the old coffee Lance had left in the thermos. Lily made a beeline for an old shed and tugged on the padlock. “What’s she doing?” Bailey picked up the pace.

  When she neared Lily, the older woman’s tugging had become frantic. “What’s wrong, Lily? That’s just an old shed.”

  “She needs me to let her out.” Lily yanked on the door again.

  Bailey fished the keys out of her pocket and unlocked the padlock. “There’s nothing inside but yard tools.” She’d peered in the window, so she already knew what it held. The door swung open, and air thick with the odor of grease and gasoline rushed out. “See? The mower and trimmer are right there. It’s just tools. No one’s in here.”

  Lily slid a blank stare around the space, then clutched herself and backed away. Her gaze began to clear of the clouds. “It’s you, Bailey. I thought you were calling me. I’m hungry.”

  “Let me make you some breakfast.” She glanced at Lance who’d been standing quietly behind her. “You hungry?”

  “I wouldn’t say no to breakfast. I had a protein bar about an hour ago.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “That’s not enough. I found a propane gas cooktop yesterday. I’ll fix eggs.” She whistled for her cat, and Sheba made a low growl. Bailey frowned. “What’s wrong, sweet girl?” Sheba made many odd sounds, but she rarely growled. The cat had her golden eyes fixed on Lily.

  The older woman backed away, then bolted for the house. Sheba leaped down and chased after her. Bailey ran to try to stop the cat, but Lily reached the door safely and slipped inside with the screen door banging behind the dirty hem of her trailing robe. The cat, big ears pricked forward, came bounding back to Bailey as if she’d done what she set out to do.

  “You leave Lily alone,” Bailey scolded. “You’ll scare her to death.”

  Lance put his hands in his pockets and grinned. “So much for being gentle. She chased Lily like a rabid dog.”

  “She wouldn’t have hurt her. I don’t understand what got into her.” But if that behavior continued, it could cause problems with caring for Lily.

  So much to do today. King sat at this desk with the sunrise gilding the rhododendrons and trees with an early morning dress of red and gold. Just like his Apsaras. Friday night’s take had been stellar, the best night so far, all thanks to Lotus’s beauty.

  The door opened, and Chey stepped inside with a tray of coffee and bagels. “You’re here early, sir.”

  He accepted the coffee Chey offered and took a sip. “Did you dispose of the bodies?”

  “Not yet. I dispatched a couple of men to handle it, but they reported that a couple of FBI agents are hanging around the area. I gave orders to cease moving any of the girls through there until they’re gone.”

  King spooned Rainier cherry jam onto his bagel. “Any idea why the FBI is nosing around?”

  “No, but it may have nothing to do with us.”

  Or it could. King frowned and took a bite of the bagel. He didn’t reach this position by ignoring possible threats. He’d see if the sheriff had any idea of what was going on out on Red Cedar Road.

  He picked up his coffee mug. “What about Bailey?”

  “She still hasn’t surfaced.”

  He slammed the mug onto his desk, and coffee sloshed onto the polished surface. “You need to find her now. If the police find her first and she blabs any of her mother’s business, it won’t be good.”

  Too late he realized he shouldn’t give Chey too much information. He grabbed a napkin and mopped up the coffee. “Never mind. Just keep looking for her. She could be an asset.”

  Chey nodded and slipped back out of the room. When the door closed, he leaned back in his chair and stared out the window. Where could she have gone?

  Chapter 14

  While Lance worked on her cabin, Bailey took Sheba with her to meet her new patient while Lily stayed behind with Lance. The cat would be out of Lance’s way, and Jason might even be interested in hearing about her unusual pet. She made a quick stop and paid to get the utilities activated, then headed for Jason’s house.

  Her GPS led her to a white cottage trimmed in green with a brick path leading to the front door. It looked vaguely Craftsman with its roofline and the shape of the pillars on the front porch.

  A small church on a hillside
had a clear view of his backyard. Maybe next week she could try it out.

  With Sheba in one arm, she rang the bell and waited. The distant sound of canned laughter told her he was watching TV. When no one answered the door, she rang the bell again, then pounded on the door with her fist. “Mr. Yarwood, it’s your nurse, Bailey Fleming.”

  Still no answer. She tried the doorknob. It turned under her fingers, and she pushed open the door. “Mr. Yarwood?”

  “In here.” His voice was gravelly and held more than a hint of irritation.

  Sheba stiffened at the gruff tone and hissed. Bailey stroked her soft fur. “Shh. Don’t get us thrown out,” she whispered.

  The inside of the home was just as charming as the outside—or at least it would be if it were clean. Shoes and clothing lay scattered on the lightly stained oak floors and dirty coffee mugs and soup bowls covered every table surface in the living room. The furniture was pale-gray leather and probably expensive, but drips of coffee and milk spotted the cushions and the armrests. Of course Jason couldn’t see to clean up any spills, but she was surprised Mac hadn’t hired a maid service to come by once a week. Or maybe it was time for a cleaning, and this was how it appeared after a week.

  She made a mental note to talk to Mac about it. Cleaning house was outside her nursing duties.

  Studying the man in the gray recliner, she was shocked to see he was so young. Probably in his late twenties. Muscles rippled under his T-shirt and jeans, and he had sun-streaked brown hair that gave him an attractive, boyish look. His brown eyes stared off into space in the direction of the TV.

  Bailey picked up the remote and muted the TV. “Mr. Yarwood, I’m Bailey, your new nurse. Did Mac tell you I was coming by? Look at this place. You ever hear that ‘God is not a God of confusion but of peace’?”