Tom passed one cabin after another as he circled up the mountain. When it appeared as though the road ended, he took a sharp right turn and stopped at a gate. He jumped out of the truck and jogged over to the long aluminum arm that blocked the driveway. Within seconds, he had it unlocked and pushed open, waving her forward.
“Oh, sorry! I wasn’t thinking.” She scooted behind the wheel, shifted the gear into first, then drove through the opening. She slid out of the driver’s seat as Tom closed and locked the gate.
He jumped inside the truck, laughing. “I knew you’d be able to drive a stick. You’re a real country girl, all right.”
Shelby laughed. “That I am!”
As Tom drove the Toyota up the driveway, the cabin—well, she wasn’t sure if cabin was the right word—came into view. It was a cabin, but cabin in its truest sense meant a small, simple house. The cabin wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t simple either; it was incredible.
A wraparound porch—the kind she’d always wanted—surrounded the pale wooden structure. The outside of a stone fireplace took up half the side of the house. And the view…
Tom pulled the pickup to a stop and got out. Shelby stopped gawking at the home long enough to follow him out of the truck and walked toward the wooden railing on the one side of the driveway to stare at the view below them.
Several copses sat on three sides of the structure, but the side that opened to a view of the mountainside, also overlooked a beautiful lake far below. She scanned the valley that spread out before her and tears filled her eyes. The Castles’ property may be large with sprawling houses and dozens of stables, but it had nothing on this place.
She wiped a tear off her cheek as Tom moved up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. “Oh, Tom. This is so beautiful.”
He brushed his lips against the side of her neck. “And with you in my line of sight, it’s more beautiful than it has ever been.”
“Ma…ma…”
Shelby smiled and ran toward the truck, opening the door. “Hey, baby. Look where we are.” She unstrapped Justin from his seat and pulled him up on her hip. “Did you have a good nap?”
“Mm-hm...”
“Look, Justin.” Shelby pointed to the hills and the lake below. “Isn’t it pretty?”
“Pret-ty.”
Tom stepped next to them. “Hey, Jus.”
Justin buried his head into her neck. “I’m sorry. It’ll take him a while; he’s not used to meeting new people.”
He smiled. “Ah, no worries. He’ll warm up to me. I get along rather well with munchkins.”
Shelby couldn’t help but smile as warmth filled her chest. That fact about Tom Turner was more important than anything she needed to know. Nothing about Tom mattered other than knowing he would like her son and treat him well.
Tom ran his hand over Justin’s curls, then turned and headed to the pickup. “Well, there’s work to be done. You two go investigate while I unload.”
He strode off toward the truck as Shelby walked the perimeter of the house with Justin in her arms.
When she made it around the entire house, Tom had unlocked the door and was opening the windows.
Shelby stepped inside. Her eyes went to the staircase leading to a loft. Not good. Pretty, but they’d have to figure out how to block off the stairs so Justin wouldn’t get hurt on them.
The cabin was bright and airy. The kitchen sat off to the left, separated by a counter that wrapped halfway around it. A small rectangular table sat beside the kitchen and then a great room opened up to the right side of the room with a stone fireplace on the one side and a wall of windows leading out to the deck on the other. She strolled down the hallway between the kitchen and great room and passed a small bathroom.
Only one room was at the end of the hall, and it was obviously a child’s room, as it was decorated in a cute country bear theme. She lowered Justin to the floor, and he ran to the toy box against the wall.
“Are you sure they haven’t been here in years, Tom?” Shelby called from the room.
Tom stepped through the doorway. “Positive. Why?”
Shelby motioned toward the walls with the hand-painted bears, crib, curtains, stuffed animals, and toys. “If this is their first child, they had to have come up and done this at some point?”
“Oh, this? I did this as a wedding and baby shower gift, so it’d be ready when they came up.”
She turned in slow motion and took in the entire room. “You did this?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. As I said, it’s been a rough year. Trying to make sense of all that had happened drove me crazy. It was nice to come here and get away from everything.”
“Tom Turner, you are…” She sauntered toward him as seductively as she could muster.
“Shelby Turner…” he responded, opening his arms.
His words stopped her forward motion and the rest of her sentence.
“What?” he asked. “It’s the truth. Come here.” He pulled her the rest of the way to him, but didn’t wrap his arms around her as she’d expected. Instead, he moved his hands behind her neck, and his fingers deftly worked at her necklace.
“Hey, what are you doing?” she complained as he pulled the necklace away from her neck. “Give that back.” She propped one hand on her hip and held the other out to him.
“I’m taking these from you.” He smiled and dropped the two rings off the chain into his hand. “You can’t have them until you’re ready.” He stuffed both rings in his front pocket, then dropped her necklace into her waiting hand.
She squeezed her fist closed and crossed her arms.
Tom stepped forward and put his hands on both sides of her face. “I love it when you pout. So much so, it almost makes ticking you off worth it.” He pressed his lips against hers for a quick kiss before she could speak, then pulled back. “I have a lot of work to do. I put your duffel bags and mine in the living room. So feel free to unpack and get comfortable while I prepare the house for tonight. It’ll be cooler when the sun sets, so we’ll want a fire. And you did promise Justin camping.” He stopped talking and stared into her eyes for a second. “There’s only one master bedroom, so if you want to sleep with me, unpack your clothes there. If not, there’s a closet in the hallway you can use if you want to sleep on the couch.”
He turned and walked out of the room, leaving her speechless, but not emotionless, as a sudden throb pulsated through her. She’d only experienced that feeling when she’d read a great romantic-suspense novel; a real man had never made her feel that way.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Tom walked out of the room, acting as though his faculties were in complete control, but inside he was shaking.
He’d made a stand, and now he couldn’t help but wonder if Shelby would take him up on his offer or pound sand. He didn’t say she had to have sex with him. He’d just made it clear that he didn’t intend to sleep on the couch for God knows how long.
He pulled the rest of their stuff out of the bed of his Toyota and dropped it all on the front porch with an audible thud, hoping she’d hear. The door opened, and he heard her drag the items inside the house.
The anticipation would be fun, but frustrating. Suddenly, chopping wood sounded like a necessary expense of energy. Otherwise, he might explode from the anxiousness swarming his body.
He walked to the shed and pulled out the ax. Chopped wood from his last visit still filled the rack in the small garage, but this would be good. It’d give Shelby a chance to acclimate herself inside, and if he was lucky, maybe she’d even sneak a peek in his direction; he could only hope.
After carrying everything he needed to the front of the house, he set one of the logs on the chopping block, searching for any hairline cracks. He rested the tip of the ax on the section he wanted to hit and planted his feet.
Bringing the ax up over his right shoulder, he gripped the handle securely with both hands, then swung down on the block of wood. The log split in half on the first swing. This was somethi
ng he’d practiced and had gotten rather good at in the last year. It was a great way to exercise and release aggression at the same time.
“Not bad, city boy.”
He turned to see Shelby standing in the doorway, mock clapping, but then she walked back inside the house.
Tom rested another block on the chopping surface and swung. No clapping. No door opening. He chopped a few more without any comment from Shelby, so he decided he needed to up his game. And it was hot outside.
Even though it was March, he’d given himself a good workout. He propped up the ax against the stack of logs, then removed his shirt, using it as a towel to mop his forehead.
He picked up the ax and continued to chop. His pile was almost tall enough, but he hadn’t gotten what he wanted yet, so he continued to chop.
A few more swings, and he heard the sound he’d been waiting for: the slight screech of the rusted spring on the screen door. He’d had to put WD-40 on it every time he visited.
Next, the light creaks of her footfalls walking across the deck and then the gravel beneath her footsteps filled his ears. He brought the ax down for a final swing, expecting her beside him in a few seconds—
“Ugh!” He whipped around as she jumped out of his reach, a cold glass of something in her hand that she’d touched to his back. “Woman!” He dropped the ax and took off after her, as she turned and bolted for the deck.
Shelby set the glass on the railing, then raced toward the opposite side of the deck, wiggling her hips as though she expected him to chase her.
Tom stopped at the glass, deciding he’d better drink first. “You don’t actually want me to chase you, do you? I’m awfully hot and sweaty.”
“You could never catch me, Tom. Didn’t I tell you…I went to college on a running scholarship? I’m faster than the wind.”
He took a sip of the drink. “Lemonade?”
“Mm-hm. There was lemon juice in the fridge.”
Tom downed every drop, then set the glass on the railing. “Where’s Justin?”
Shelby leaned against the railing, but didn’t walk to his side of the deck. “Sleeping again. I don’t think he’s slept much in the last few days either.”
Tom made his move while she was talking, and in response, she sprinted around the corner of the house. Shelby ran down the steps, while he skipped them, saving him a few seconds. She charged across the driveway and sprinted along the path leading to the main road. It took a couple hundred yards, but he caught her.
Tackling her with a bear hug, he pulled her to a stop. “I was a running back. But since I came from a small private school, I played offense and defense. Good luck trying to outrun me, lady.” He ran his hands through her hair, pulling her closer.
Her mouth parted, and he closed the space between them. Their lips moved together in perfect rhythm. Their tongues continued the dance. He might not be able to dance well, but he loved to kiss, and Shelby was an incredible kisser. He’d longed for this the last few days.
He pulled back after a few moments. “Now you’re all sweaty too.”
“That’s okay.” Her lips turned up in a devilish grin. “I don’t mind getting dirty.” She turned and walked off, swaying her hips as though there was music playing that only she could hear.
Tom sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He was outmatched with this one; she would certainly be the death of him.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Bearns left the area around the lake and headed off toward the surrounding woods.
Tall, dense pines, as far as he could see, made up a large portion on the north side of the Castles’ estate. They’d reserved the other side of their property for stables, pastures, and a larger than life greenhouse. If the zombie apocalypse hit, he was heading here. The family could probably self-sustain themselves for months.
As Bearns made his way through the wooded part of the property, he wondered how one family could mass so much wealth.
From what he’d researched, they’d lived in this area since before the Civil War. Few plantations existed in the western mountainous region of the state, as opposed to the coastal plain, which had a long history of slavery, but there had been plenty of holdouts in North Carolina. Bearns loved the time he spent reenacting the War Between the States, but he always played a Union soldier, not a Confederate.
The Castles had probably been one of those estates the North had been trying to eradicate. And the only thing families as theirs disliked worse than others attacking their wallets was folks attacking their name. Privacy was the key when it came to rich people, and Shelby had brought all kinds of attention their way.
First, Shelby, a lower-classed person in their eyes, marries their son, and then she divorces him, taking their only grandchild. Next, she comes back, even though he beat her according to the newspaper, and almost kills him. And the next day he turns up dead.
Money? Bearns wondered. Maybe she returned for money and decided the best way to get it was to kill Carlin. But who helped her? The woman who claimed to have seen her may have been drunk and having an affair, but more than likely, she’d been telling a partial truth. It might not be enough probable cause to warrant an arrest, but it warranted an investigation in Bearns’ eyes, a lead anyway to his missing adulterer.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID: Milton Williams. “Find something?” he spoke into the phone.
“The divers found the dinghy. But an even more interesting occurrence, Shelby ran.”
“Interesting, but not surprising; she’s scared. You should have seen her face when she opened the door to Meare’s happy mug. You goin’ after her?”
“Meare called in an APB because she took the kid. That’ll be enough to keep her locked up if they find her, thankfully; because right now, we still don’t have anything linking her to her ex-husband’s death or the disappearance of Roger Hale.”
Bearns kept his gaze on the forest floor for anything unusual as he listened and walked. There’d been a storm the other night, so the ground was still moist, making it impossible to see tracks, but he knew what he was looking for. He stopped at a difference in the path, noticing the leaves were drier all of the sudden.
“Hey, Bearns? You still there?” Williams asked.
“Yeah. Hang on a sec, will ya?” He bent over and moved a few leaves. The wet leaves he’d seen were underneath the dry ones. Someone had tried to cover just this path that jutted off the main trail he’d been walking.
He made a wide arc and circled to the other side of an open area. As he came up from the north side of the section, he saw where more leaves had been laid down.
This time the dry leaves weren’t covering wet leaves; they were covering recently upturned ground. And then he spotted a real piece of evidence.
A hint of color stuck out from underneath a few leaves. He pulled out his pen and lifted a couple leaves to reveal a hair tie on the ground with a long blond hair attached.
“Send your team north, Williams. I think I just found Hale’s grave.”
Bearns left the rubber band where it lay. He didn’t want to disturb the ground or anything around it.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Shelby stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her.
She peeked outside the master bath to make sure Tom wasn’t upstairs, then walked to the left-hand side of the dresser she’d chosen for her clothes. She’d also folded and put away Tom’s clothes, challenging his words from earlier, but it didn’t mean she was gonna have sex with him, even if she chose to sleep here.
No doubt, she wanted to. Every fiber in her body screamed for him. She’d never wanted a man in that way. She’d seen men and recognized their looks, but never had a man caused blood to rush downward through her body.
Deciding it best that she remain as unattractive as possible, she brushed her hair up into a ponytail, pulling it through a rubber tie, then pulled out a pair of sweatpants.
But then she couldn’t re
sist…she grabbed her Guess sweatshirt. Yeah, it was a sweatshirt, but with its tendency to fall off one shoulder, it was the sexiest sweatshirt she owned.
She loved it because it was soft and worn from years of washings, but she’d stopped wearing it around Carlin because he couldn’t seem to resist touching her neck when she wore it.
Oh well, a little sexy wouldn’t hurt anything. She did want Tom to desire to stay with her for a little bit longer. After all, this was a lot more comfortable than the tent camping she’d planned.
As she walked downstairs, she inhaled a deep breath. Whatever he’d cooked smelled amazing.
A safety gate at the end of the stairs caused her to smile. She’d forgotten Tom had a niece and a nephew; he’d evidently baby-proofed the cabin as well as decorated it.
She peeked outside and sighed when she saw Tom and Justin sitting around the fire pit. What had started out as a horrible morning had suddenly morphed into a wonderful day.
The scent wafting from the kitchen drew her attention. She’d let them hang out for a few minutes; it’d be good for Justin to get to know him. It was amazing that he hadn’t woken up from his nap crying for her. Normally he’d never let a stranger near him.
Shelby approached the pot simmering on the stove and lifted the lid to reveal chili. She stirred it with the wooden spoon on the counter and tested to see if it tasted as good as it smelled.
One of the ingredients was a mystery to her; she couldn’t place it. It didn’t taste like any chili she’d eaten, but it was delicious just the same. Beside the stove sat a box of dried spaghetti. What in the world was he making, she wondered.
She set the spoon on a plate, then headed for the deck, opening the door quietly so she could sneak up on them.
“Hey, buddy. Wanna help me put another log on the fire?” Tom spoke to Justin. Her little boy jumped up from the makeshift bench they were sitting on and ran over to the woodpile, attempting to pick up the largest log. He gave up on the huge one he wanted and settled for a shim, running it to Tom’s outstretched hand. “That’s the exact one I wanted. You’re a big help.”
When Noonday Ends: A Southern Romantic-Suspense Novel - Nantahala - Book Two Page 14
