Chapter Eight
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The next day, Hunter wondered if he was doing the right thing dialing the Franks’ number. He and Jo had slept in the stables again and had made love twice, but now it was daylight. Time to get to work. Once they’d all pitched in with morning chores, he and Jo had returned to their building site to go over their plans, but he’d found it hard to concentrate as the time for Marlon’s daily call ticked past again.
Hunter was worried. Marlon wouldn’t rotate overseas again this close to the end of his enlistment. That meant he should have access to his phone. And should be able to answer calls, too.
Which meant Marlon was avoiding him.
Hunter needed to know he was still in San Diego. If he’d run again…
Hunter didn’t even want to think about it.
It was nearly lunchtime, and the others had gone ahead into the house, but he knew it was a good time to catch Sue-Ann, so he’d lingered on the back porch to make the call.
“Frank residence,” Sue-Ann said, picking up. She didn’t sound her usual, chirpy self. Hunter straightened.
“Sue-Ann?”
“Glad we’re back on familiar terms,” she said dryly.
“Have you heard from Marlon?”
She paused. “No. I was hoping you were him, actually. Not that I’m sorry to hear from you—you know that.”
“I haven’t heard from him in a couple of days. It’s got me worried.”
“Well…” Sue-Ann seemed to be picking her words. “You know he loves you as much as any of us,” she said gently. “But your behavior has been a little off-kilter recently. Maybe it’s put a strain on things, and he needs a little break to sort things out. I’m sure he’ll come around.”
Hunter stifled a curse. She had no idea how recent events were going to put a strain on things if he didn’t hear from her son. He’d stepped into this mess so that Marlon could be free of it.
“Could you call him? Just make sure he’s all right. For me?”
“Sure, I can do that. I’ll call back in a few minutes.”
Hunter paced the back deck until his phone buzzed again—far too quickly for Sue-Ann to have had a real conversation with Marlon. Tabitha appeared out from under the wicker couch, jumped up on the railing, stared at him for a moment and jumped down again. The cat seemed to sense he wasn’t in a good mood.
“He’s not picking up. I tried several times.” She sounded worried, too. “Hunter, he’s been strange lately. For the last few months.” She sighed. “Longer than that. Tell me truthfully: Did he know all along you were struggling with your time in the service? Did he at least try to help?”
Too many questions that were impossible to answer without implicating Marlon. Sue-Ann didn’t know yet that May was filing for divorce. Marlon had insisted on it. He’d hoped to patch things up with his wife before anyone knew. Hunter understood why; he wasn’t the only one who’d had a quiet conversation with his friend before his wedding years ago. Marlon had still been in love with Marie when he’d rushed into his marriage. May had been running from her own troubles. Neither of them were making good choices, and no one was surprised when they grew apart.
“He knew.” Best to keep it short if he didn’t want to break his promises to his friend. Marlon had made him swear not to get anyone else involved. “I’ve got to go.”
“Keep calling me, Hunter,” she said. “I need to know you’re okay, too—that you’re getting the help you need. Are you seeing someone? Are you going to be able to wrap up your career with the Navy right?”
He bit back a laugh. He was seeing someone and he hoped his alliance with Jo would help end his career on a positive note, but not in the way Sue-Ann meant. “Yeah.” He cut the call short with a curt goodbye before they went down that rabbit hole.
This was a mess. Where was Marlon? Had he made a run for it again?
He wracked his brain for someone else to call, but he had few connections left in the Navy. He’d burned all his bridges to save his friend. So if Marlon was busy burning them again, he’d—
What?
Try to get his old life back?
Was that what he wanted?
He turned to survey the trailer, braced and ready for Jo’s little house.
No. That wasn’t what he wanted at all.
“I wonder what Sadie’s doing in India right now,” Alice mused as she and Jo did the dishes after lunch. Cass had needed to run to town to do some shopping, so they’d stepped in to help. Jo didn’t mind; her chores were under control and they were still waiting for the supplies to be delivered before she and Hunter could start on her house. She took a clean dish from the rack and dried it absently, trying to picture her sister in a foreign land with her new husband.
“I bet she’s eating some fantastic meals.”
“At midnight?” Alice glanced at the clock.
“Either that or—” Jo broke off, embarrassed. She’d been about to allude to hot sex between Sadie and Connor, but she and Alice didn’t usually banter about things like that.
“Or she’s getting it on with that husband of hers,” Alice finished for her, unperturbed. She glanced at Jo. “She’s allowed to have sex with him—just like you’re allowed to go for it with Hunter.”
“Alice!” Scandalized, Jo made sure they were alone. “How did you—?”
“I didn’t. Until now.” Alice laughed. “I suspected, though. You’re glowing! What else could be going on?”
“You must think I’m an idiot—after Sean, and then Grant—”
“I think you finally might have met your match. And I think every princess has to kiss some frogs to find her true love.”
“My match? Do you… really think so? Is that one of your hunches?” Jo was used to living with Alice’s premonitions and she knew that some of them were stronger than others.
Alice frowned as she plunged her hands into the soapy water and found a last dish to scrub. “Don’t say anything, especially not to Cass. But my hunches… something’s… muddying them up.” She rinsed the dish and put it in the rack, then drained the sink.
“What do you mean?”
Her sister shook her head. “The only other time something like this happened was right before Mom died.” Alice scrubbed the sink clean and moved to wipe down the counters.
Jo set the plate she’d been drying on the counter with a thump as Tabitha wound around her feet. “You think someone’s going to die?”
“No! No,” Alice said again, more softly. “I think something’s going to happen that affects me too directly for me to see. Does that make sense? Mom’s death was so overwhelming—to me, personally—I couldn’t look right at it until it was too late.”
“So what’s going to happen?” Jo set aside the towel and bent down to stroke Tabitha, who’d been lying low lately with Max hanging around all the time. Luckily, the puppy seemed to be dividing his allegiance between Brian and Hunter while Connor was gone, so he was often outside of the house.
“That’s just it; I don’t know.”
Jo didn’t like it. Alice’s hunches were erratic at the best of times, but once in a while they were helpful. Given the ongoing trouble they’d had, they needed every advantage they could get. She stood up again, and Tabitha stalked off to investigate her food dish.
“Well, I hope it’s good, whatever it is.”
“I hope so, too.” Alice stopped. Closed her eyes for a moment. Opened them and glanced her way, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’m getting some kind of message for you. Something about giving and taking orders? Don’t worry about it so much? I don’t know what that means—it’s edging in sideways around whatever’s blocking my vision.” She rinsed the cloth she’d used to wipe all the horizontal surfaces and hung it to dry. Wiping her hands on a towel, she crossed kitchen, tugged a chair close to the counter, used it to step up and from there leverage herself onto the top of the refrigerator. It had always been her favorite place. The kitchen’s high ceiling left her plenty of room to sit cross-legged up there. She pulled out a sketch-pad and pencil from a stack of supplies she kept handy, leaned back against the wall and began to draw.
Jo hoped she wasn’t blushing. She’d been giving orders in the maze yesterday, and Hunter had followed them. But then he’d issued one of his own.
No other men, he’d said. She’d thought, of course no other men. Hunter was all she could think about.
What else would he demand, though?
Last night when they were together again in the stables, Jo had begun to think they had a real future together. But if they did get serious, would he think he could call the shots like he’d initially tried to when it came to the house plans? Would she always have to struggle to find her voice like she had all her life, first with her sisters, then with Sean and Grant?
Would she end up right back where she’d started?
When her phone buzzed in her pocket, she reached for it gratefully. A distraction was just what she needed.
“Who’s that?” Alice asked.
“Megan.” She accepted the call.
“Good, I got you! Want to go to Silver Falls with me?” Megan asked cheerfully.
“What for?”
“I’ve got to air out a house up there before a showing. It’s old, and no one’s lived in it for a couple of years. You know how those places up on the ridge get. So it’ll smell bad, but at least it gives us a chance to hang out.”
“I’m in.” Why not? It would give her an excuse to leave the ranch, which she needed. She could clear her head and figure out what she wanted from this relationship with Hunter.
Before she got home, she’d decide how to proceed.
When Hunter next checked in at the house, Jo was gone. Alice, sitting cross-legged on top of the fridge with a sketch pad in her lap, told him she’d run into town. He was disappointed; he’d hoped to spend more time with her, maybe wander through the maze again. Last night had been amazing, and if he was honest, he couldn’t wait to get alone with her again.
Restless, and still worried about Marlon, who definitely was ignoring him, he decided to head to town, too, to gather the supplies that wouldn’t be included in the lumber delivery the following day. He’d long since exchanged his rental for a second-hand truck Brian had helped him find in town.
He liked the winding drive into Chance Creek—long enough to let a man get his thoughts together, but not so long that it became tedious. The landscape suited him. Productive, but wild—kind of the way he thought of himself, although he figured if someone asked Marlon to describe him, his friend would probably choose words like overbearing, annoying and oppressive.
He wished the man would just call. He got it; Marlon didn’t want him riding him all the time. But wasn’t he entitled to, after what he’d given up?
“You’ve got a martyr complex, you know that?” Marlon had asked a few weeks back.
The phrase got under his skin and rubbed at him. He’d never meant to be a martyr—never meant to be anything but a Navy SEAL. Marlon was the one who’d made all the choices that got him here.
Right where he wanted to be, as it turned out.
He kept turning over the conundrum in his mind but got nowhere with it, so he was glad when he reached town and pulled in at the hardware store.
He was choosing screws from a set of big, open bins near the back of the store when a man walked up, grabbed a small paper bag from the rack and began to measure out some of his own.
“You’re Hunter Powell, right?” the man asked.
“That’s right.” Hunter tipped his hat back. “You’ve got the jump on me. Can’t say I recognize you.”
“Steel Cooper. I know Connor.”
Hunter nodded. “Good to meet you, then.”
They kept at their work, but Hunter had a feeling the other man had more to say.
When Steel hefted the paper sack and rolled up the top, he turned to Hunter and lowered his voice. “Trouble’s back in town. Just letting you know.”
“What’s that mean?” Hunter matched his tone. He’d worked with enough informants over his career that he knew when someone stepped up to offer intelligence they were taking a risk. That meant they judged the information important enough to warrant it.
“I want my family kept out of it. Just keep an eye out, that’s all I’m saying.” He walked off before Hunter could ask any more questions. He’d save them for Brian—and Connor, when they could reach him.
Not that he’d learned anything new. He thought about Bright Star, still convalescing in her stall. As far as he was concerned, trouble had already arrived.
“What do you think? Would you buy it?” Megan asked when she’d unlocked the door to the dilapidated house and let Jo inside. They’d driven far into the hills of Silver Falls to reach it, into an area that Jo had heard plenty about but never visited.
“I don’t think so.” Jo was intrigued by the cabin’s age, but even her untrained eye could see the necessary repairs were beyond her. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of decay. At some point this house had been loved, but not for a long, long time. “Did your buyer want to see it?”
“I told you; he wants to see everything.” Today, Megan’s blond hair was pulled up into a no-nonsense bun on top of her head. “You don’t have to do anything. Just keep me company.”
“I’ll help.” Jo grabbed the broom Megan had carried in. “I’ll sweep, you clean.”
“I don’t know how much we can do for the place.” Megan eyed the cobwebs in the corners where the walls met the ceiling. “I’m fine with sprucing up a house a bit to get a sale, but this one needs to be renovated top to bottom.”
“We’ll tackle the worst of it. It’ll make a difference,” Jo assured her as cheerfully as she could. She wanted to help her friend get a sale.
A half hour later, she wasn’t as sure as she’d been before, however. She’d swept her way through most of the rooms, but all it did was expose how dingy the floors were. Everything needed a good scrub, and that was more than they had time for. She found herself itching to go to town, gather supplies and do the house justice; first her mother and then Cass had kept her home spic and span all her life. She couldn’t abide a mess like this.
“Why hasn’t the house’s owner fixed this place up?” she complained to Megan when they met in the kitchen again.
“The owner is dead. Her children have given up on it. I’m only fighting so hard for this commission because things have been pretty slow lately. I’m too new to get the good listings. I’m going to be hustling for years at this rate.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Jo told her. She was pretty sure Megan would create a business for herself in real estate in time, though. She was a people person and an extremely hard worker. Jo knew Megan still lived at home and longed to be able to move out, but her practical nature was another of her strong points. She’d declared her intention of staying put until she’d saved up for a down payment on a house of her own.
A sharp knock on the door startled them both.
“Who’s that?” Jo asked.
“I’m not sure.” Megan moved to a living room window and peeked out. “Oh, my God—it’s my client. What’s he doing here?” She looked down at herself in horror and lifted a hand to her hair.
“I’ll let him in. You go clean up,” Jo said. She waved Megan into the rear of the house where there was a bathroom, and approached the door, curious to see the person who was running her friend ragged.
When she opened the door and recognized the man on the front stoop, her heart sank. He was the one from the feed store who’d been so forward—and so annoying. His impatient expression morphed into an oily smile that brought her hackles up.
“We meet again after all,” he said. Jo found herself taking a step back. Every instinct told her not to trust this man, and she was done questioning her instincts. She was glad Megan was here, too.
“I guess so.” She straightened, aware that she’d already betrayed her dislike, but not caring.
“Where’s Ms. Lawrence?” He entered the house without an invitation.
“She’ll… be here in a minute.” Jo realized too late she should have blocked his entry. But that was ridiculous—he simply wanted to see the house, right? Still, she didn’t like it when he crossed into the living room as if he already owned it.
“Megan? Megan—we have company,” she called, wanting to give her friend a head’s up he was inside. Megan came around the corner and nearly walked into him.
“Mr. Ramsey. What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting tomorrow for the showing.”
“Came by to look the place over from the outside. Saw your car. No sense putting something off until tomorrow when you can do it today.”
He seemed pleased with this nugget of wisdom, and Jo was beginning to think he wasn’t too bright. That didn’t make him less dangerous, though. He was a Southerner, she thought, but not from the deep South like Hunter was. His drawl was light, not honey-thick. It had a twang to it.
“I’m not quite ready to show the place. My partner and I were just spiffing it up a little—”
“Didn’t know you had a partner.” Mr. Ramsey looked Jo up and down, and she felt like he’d seen right through Megan’s ruse.
“I’m just helping out—” Jo began.
“You looking for a job?” Mr. Ramsey stepped closer to Jo than she found comfortable. She took a step back. Cursed herself for doing it. Ramsey was the type of man who only understood one thing.
Strength.
“No—I’m busy enough—”
“Doing what?”
“I—uh—live on a ranch. I’ve got plenty to do there.”
“A ranch, huh?” He looked her over again. “Married?”
Jesus, had he really asked that question? “Uh—no.” She gave Megan a pleading stare. This was too much. But she didn’t want to ruin things for her friend. Megan needed a sale.
“We’ll have dinner, then.”
“Hell, no! I mean, I have a boyfriend.” Jo couldn’t believe the nerve of the man. Did he really think he could order her to have dinner with him?
Did that kind of line actually work on women?
She sure as heck hoped not.
“Boyfriend.” He said it like he didn’t believe her. “Who?”
Anger and confusion warred within her. She didn’t have to answer his questions, she told herself, but his boldness made it hard not to. She had a feeling if she tried to resist they’d spend the rest of the afternoon arguing about it. “His name is Hunter Powell. Not that you’d know him.”
He didn’t answer, but she was sure he’d filed the name away. Jo didn’t like him one bit. Ramsey swept his gaze over his surroundings and frowned.
“This isn’t the place.”
“You haven’t even looked upstairs.” Megan reached toward the staircase as if to point the way.
“It isn’t the place,” Ramsey repeated. “I need a ranch.”