Chapter Four
“I can’t find a job,” Brandon said when he met up with Noah at Linda’s Diner the following day. “It’s impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible,” Noah assured him. “You have to work at it, but you’ll get there if it’s what you really want.”
“Easy for you to say. The whole system’s rigged to help people like you succeed, whereas it’s all stacked against me.”
That caught Noah off guard. “People like me?”
“Born rich, from a respected family. Probably never had the chance to slip up even if you wanted to.”
Noah frowned, but not because Brandon thought he had it easy. It was to be expected for a parolee to lash out, blaming an unfair system rather than taking responsibility for his actions. What bothered Noah was that the accusation brought him back to the day before, when Jed had busted him for sucking up to Cab. He didn’t care what Jed said; Jed criticized everything he did anyway. What bothered him was that he’d said it in front of Olivia. Was that how she saw him? As a spineless goody-goody looking for a pat on the head?
He sure hoped not.
“I’m not rich,” he told Brandon evenly. “And even if I was, that wouldn’t mean I didn’t have my own challenges.”
Brandon shrugged. “Maybe. And maybe if I could go back I’d do things better. But seems to me you get one chance, and if you screw it up there’s no hope of fixing it.”
“You’re right.” Noah was satisfied when Brandon straightened in surprise. “It is harder to rebuild once you’ve broken the law. It’s harder to do most things, I’d imagine, including getting a job. The lesson here is that actions have consequences. It’s probably difficult to see right now, but in a way that’s a good thing.”
Brandon let out a bitter laugh. “Oh yeah? How do you figure?”
“Dealing with the pain of those consequences now will help you make better decisions in the future. Not only better for society, but better for yourself. It’s understandable that in certain situations you might be tempted to cut corners. This gives you a reason not to. In fact, in sticking to stricter rules than most people have to deal with, and overcoming more difficult obstacles, you’re going to build a lot of discipline, perseverance and integrity. Those values will serve you well, not just through this process but the rest of your life. You might feel impossibly behind right now, but if you take this chance to develop a strong character, you’ll be ahead of the average person in the long run.”
Brandon made a noncommittal noise. Noah obviously wasn’t getting through to him. And he really needed to get through to him. His parolee was disenfranchised, running out of hope and more concerned with the present moment than his future.
In other words, he was dangerously close to reoffending. Noah couldn’t bear to see Brandon throw it all away now, and he’d do whatever he could to keep that from happening.
“Okay,” he went on, “maybe you’re not in the mood to think about the future right now. I get it. So let’s talk about your current—”
“You boys doing all right?”
Noah nearly groaned when Christie appeared, her gaze fixed on Brandon. Why on earth had he brought Brandon back here? Caught up in his longing for Olivia, the escalating feud between Jed and Virginia, and Jed’s constant, irritating presence around the Flying W, he’d forgotten all about the flirtatious waitress.
“We’re good,” he said firmly.
“Actually—” Brandon caught Christie’s hand when she started to turn away. “I could use a glass of water.”
Funny how he hadn’t mentioned being thirsty when their original waiter took their orders, Noah thought.
Brandon held on to Christie’s hand far too long until Noah cleared his throat. By the time he let go, Christie’s color was high.
“I’ll be right back,” she said breathlessly.
“What I was saying,” Noah continued when she was gone, “is that you don’t have to wait for your situation to get better. There are things you can do right now that can improve your quality of life.”
“Like what?” Brandon’s eyes traced Christie’s path through the restaurant.
“Building your community would be a great first step. Like we talked about before, the more people you know and who trust you, the more opportunities will naturally come your way. But it goes way beyond that. Once you get used to feeling ostracized by society, it’s easy to forget what it feels like to have a strong support system. You might not even realize how much you miss—”
“Here you go, honey.” Christie was back. She leaned across Brandon to place his water on the table, the position leading to a lot more body contact than seemed necessary. She caught Noah glowering at her and winked at him. “Okay then, I’ll get out of your hair, let you get back to your serious business.”
“Wait,” Brandon said before Christie even began to move away. He touched the brim of the glass. “I was actually hoping to get water with ice in it.”
“My bad.” She leaned in again to retrieve the glass. “Be back before you know it.”
Noah ran a hand through his hair and watched Brandon in silence. The parolee didn’t seem to notice at first, his gaze focused on the waitress as she walked away, but when he glanced back, he caught Noah looking and shifted uncomfortably. “So, uh, you were saying about a support system?”
Noah said nothing. This time when Christie came back, she took one look at Noah’s face, set the ice water on the table without fanfare and scurried back to the kitchen.
“Are you two dating?” Noah asked when the kitchen door swung shut behind her.
Brandon eyed him. “What’s it to you?”
“I’m your parole officer. It’s my job.”
“To meddle in my love life? I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“It’s my business if I think you’re building a destructive relationship.”
Brandon set his hands on the table and leaned toward Noah. “Weren’t you just telling me I should build my community? You don’t know what it’s like to be in prison. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“You keep telling me I need to connect with people.” Brandon cut him off. “But the first time I try to, you give me hell. What makes you think she’s going to be a bad influence on me, anyway? She seems nice.”
Noah cleared his throat. “She does, actually. Seems like a good woman.”
Brandon’s eyes widened as he finally understood. “Wait—you’re saying I’ll be a bad influence on her? Fuck you, man—you’re supposed to be on my side.” He stood up, bumping the table in his haste to get away. His water sloshed in its glass.
“Hold on, there.” Noah got up, too, but he had to collect his jacket and wallet. By the time he managed it, Brandon was already at the door. “You’re twisting my words. Hey!” He rushed to catch Brandon and bumped into two people coming in.
“Noah! Perfect.” Liam waved something in his hand at Noah. “Check out—”
Noah forced his way around him and Jed, but by the time he poked his head out the door he couldn’t see which way Brandon had gone. Besides, he couldn’t just leave without paying.
He crossed paths with Christie on his way back in. “Brandon had to go,” he told her curtly and led his brother and uncle back to his table. Christie took their orders, and Liam laid a stack of papers before him. Noah struggled to get his irritation under control.
“Look at these,” Liam said. “First batch of nostalgia letters for the school. Some of them are gold.”
“Others are from people who clearly never graduated,” Jed muttered.
Liam waved him off. “Seriously, give them a read.”
Noah picked up one at random and skimmed it. It could use a little cleanup, for sure. There was a lot of rambling in the beginning about the author’s childhood that had nothing to do with the school, but there was heart to it, too, a simple, honest account that made Noah wish he’d been around for a time when he hadn’t even been alive. When it got to the point and talked about good times at Chance Creek High, it was touching.
“These… these could actually work.” He started on a second letter.
“What, you didn’t think I’d pull it off?” Liam demanded, but beneath his sour expression, Noah could tell he was proud.
“You’re right. I should never have doubted you.” Noah didn’t want to alienate his brother, but he was still torn about delaying the renovation and tech upgrade project at the high school. “Let’s keep it positive, though. Some of these letters are a little… rough.”
“As well they should be,” Jed said. “I say we focus on those, let everyone know how the Coopers are trying to ruin our town.”
“A majority of the teachers had to vote for the renovation to go through,” Noah reminded him. “If we publish letters that call them stupid—or malicious—for supporting the renovation, all we’ll do is make them close ranks against us and double down.” He picked up and waved the first letter he’d read. Knowing Jed never was much for tact, he appealed directly to Liam. “You were right, man, letters like this are gold. This guy talks about how incredible his teachers were, then goes on to argue that all this technology will keep the next generation of students from building those close personal relationships with them. The Board will be a lot more inclined to listen to letters that start out by praising the school.” He clapped Liam on the shoulder. “Look for more like this one. Great work, man.”
Liam squared his shoulders and nodded, but Jed’s expression remained stormy. “Still nothing but talk in the end. We ought to do more.”
“I think Liam’s doing plenty,” Noah said. He had to keep them both on the straight and narrow path.
“I disagree,” Jed said. “I think we should take action.”
“Maybe you should collect testimonials, too,” Noah suggested. “Like you always say, the Turners were more respected back in your day.” Liam opened his mouth to protest, and Noah shot him a significant look, praying he’d understand. “There’s got to be plenty of folks around who remember those times and still have a lot of respect for you. I bet you could get better testimonials out of them than Liam or I could hope for.”
Jed chewed on that for a moment. “I suppose I do have a lot of pull in this town. Might as well put it to use.”
Christie came to bring them their orders and talk turned to the ranch and the work that needed to be done there. Noah let out a sigh of relief when they left him alone at his table to run some errands around town. He sat back and nursed his coffee. When had it become his role in life to blow smoke up everyone’s asses?
“Why the long face?”
A lean man with a dark goatee and a matching dark Stetson sat across from Noah, putting an end to his moment of peace and quiet.
“Mahoney,” Noah greeted the young deputy. “How you been?” He’d worked with Patrick Mahoney awhile now. Noah could count on him to have his back, and he appreciated that.
“I asked first.” Mahoney reclined in his seat.
Noah rested his head in his hands. “Wish I could say things were good, but they aren’t.” He wouldn’t mention his family’s troubles. “It’s my parolee. Keeps flirting with the waitress over there.” He nodded at Christie. “Pretty clear she’s in it for the thrills of dating a bad boy, but I’m worried she’ll get in over her head. Don’t want her to end up on the wrong path. ’Course when I brought that up, Brandon snapped and stormed out.”
Mahoney shrugged. “Can’t say I blame the guy.” He leaned forward and studied Noah intently. “You ain’t never fallen for the wrong gal?”
Noah started to deny it, then paused. On the surface Mahoney played the part of the devil-may-care, doesn’t-play-by-the-rules deputy, but Noah knew it was an act. Underneath, he was studious, disciplined and a genuinely good guy.
“I guess I have,” he admitted.
Mahoney’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh yeah? Who?”
Noah took a deep breath. “You’d better keep this under your hat.”
“Sorry if we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Ella said when Olivia finally got another chance to stop by Crescent Hall. “It’s your party, after all. We should have waited for more input from you before putting down so many ideas.”
“Are you kidding?” Olivia leafed through the binder Ella had put in front of her. “I’m the one who should apologize—you didn’t have to do all this. This must have taken ages.”
Regan waved a hand. “With all these little ones around, there’s a lot of time for chatting and brainstorming while we keep an eye on the kids. It was nice to have a project to talk about.”
Olivia chuckled when she reached a page headlined Regency Theme, with several question marks after it. “Aunt Virginia should love this one; it’d be like reliving her youth.”
The other women laughed, except Storm, who leaned in seriously. “We first put the idea down as a joke.” She ran her hand down the early entries in the list of notes, written in a variety of hands and colors. It included entries such as “quadrille dance battle” and “How to Marry an Earl trivia game.” Farther down, however, the entries grew serious, including a detailed Regency menu and cost estimates for what it would take to fit each guest with appropriate clothing. “The more we talked about it, the more we fell in love with the idea,” Storm explained.
“The girls over at Westfield run a Regency bed-and-breakfast,” Heather added. “I’m sure they’d be honored to help us put it on.”
“And get this,” Ella began.
“Miss Hollywood Starlet, always working the networking angle,” Regan teased.
Ella held up her diamond-clad ring finger. “That’s Mrs. Hollywood Starlet to you,” she said archly, then turned to Olivia. “What I was trying to say is, this party is mostly for Martin Fulsom’s benefit, right?”
“More or less.”
“He’s the one behind that crazy reality show at Westfield. If we can pitch it to him as promotion for both his Chance Creek projects, tied together by the Regency theme, I’m sure he’ll be all over it.”
Well hell, that was something.
“Not to mention the teachers,” Regan said. “They’re a bunch of big old nerds at heart, so they’ll eat it right up.”
“Plus, Regan’s biased,” Heather added with a grin.
Regan nodded. “Jane Austen’s writing played a role in bringing me here and changing the course of my life, so she holds a special place in my heart. And besides, teachers really do love to play dress-up.”
They all waited for Olivia’s reaction. When she didn’t reply right away, Storm bit her lip. “Whoops. We didn’t mean to give you such a hard sell, I swear. It’s only one idea—and it’s your party, after all.”
In response, Olivia picked up a pen and drew a thick dark line through the question marks in the title, transforming them all into a single exclamation point. “I’m in!”
Driving home again, she spotted Carl heading into Fila’s Familia, a popular local restaurant that his wife owned with Fila Matheson. An idea popped into her head, and she pulled over, parked and hurried after him.
“Hi, Carl. Mind if I join you?” She caught up just as he was sliding into a booth. She saw Camila disappearing back into the kitchen. The newlyweds must have already greeted each other. Olivia thought it was sweet Carl came here for dinner.
“Oh hey, Olivia. Go ahead.” He gestured to the bench seat across the table, but the yummy smells that swirled through the air of the Afghan-Mexican fusion restaurant were making Olivia hungry.
“Be back in a sec.” She went to the counter to order.
Juana Valentin, Camila’s cousin who had recently moved to town from Mexico, greeted her at the register and recommended their latest addition to the menu: gorditas de flor de calabaza. Olivia didn’t know what that was, and she’d been skeptical when Juana and Camila started adding “authentic” Mexican dishes to Fila’s menu, but she’d quickly learned Juana knew what she was doing. When Olivia returned to Carl’s booth, she carried a plate laden with pastry shells stuffed with squash flowers.
“Surprisingly good, right?” Carl said when she’d polished off her first gordita. “I’ve never eaten a flower before.”
Olivia nodded, then remembered why she was there. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”
One of the corners of Carl’s mouth quirked up. “I’m not stealing any clocks—even if they do fetch a good price on the black market.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. Carl had been her unwitting getaway driver one of the times she’d tried to take her family’s grandmother clock back from the Turners. “This isn’t about the clock. You’re doing really good work with the school,” she went on as Carl’s gaze fell on the folder in front of him, which was stuffed with paperwork no doubt connected to the project. “But it isn’t the only place in town that could use some help. I was wondering if you might be able to help me raise money for the library.”
“You don’t think the school’s enough to win the prize?”
“This isn’t about the prize. I’ve known the librarian since I was a kid. She’s having trouble keeping the lights on. I know you’re busy, but it was so easy for you to get sponsorship for the school. If you could just reach out to some of your contacts—”
Carl finally looked up. “Easy?” He put his pen down. “You know I’m trying to be a rancher now—not a businessman? I’m busy.”
“You said the same thing before you started on the school.”
“That was a special case—” He broke off. “Look, ‘busy’ doesn’t begin to cover what I am these days. Not only am I starting a ranch right when Chance Creek is heading into a drought, but I’m also trying to run it like Camila’s family’s ranch back home in Mexico. I’m trying to figure out how to grow the ingredients she can’t get here, which means designing a whole new system of greenhouses.”
“Never mind. I’ll figure out another way.”
“Try me in a few months, when I’ve managed to check a few things off my to-do list.”
Olivia nodded and made small talk for the rest of the meal. If Carl couldn’t help her, she didn’t know who could, but she couldn’t blame the man for being overwhelmed right now. Embarrassed she’d even asked, she hurried to finish and said goodbye. On her way out, she almost bumped into Caroline, who was walking in.
“Hey,” she said, glad to see her friend. “Are you here to eat dinner? I’ll sit with you if you are.” She could use a good chat.
“Just getting takeout,” Caroline said apologetically. “I’ve got to hurry. We’re still on for Sunday, though, right?”
“You bet.” Olivia was disappointed, but no doubt Devon was waiting for Caroline at home. He was always impatient when she wasn’t there with him. “How’s work?” Olivia asked to prolong the conversation.
“Busy. I—hang on, let me get this.” Caroline drew her phone out of her purse, frowned and answered it. “Hi. Yes, I’m at the restaurant. Devon, I just got here. Yes. Yes, I know. I’ll be home as soon as I can, okay? What?” Her shoulders slumped. “Sure. I’ll stop and get them.” She hung up, her lips pinched in a thin line. Olivia didn’t like the pain in her friend’s eyes, and she almost reached out to touch Caroline’s arm. Devon was so damn overbearing sometimes.
Before she could, Caroline straightened. “Lottery tickets, can you believe that? Like we’ve got the money to spare. Devon calls it our retirement plan, but it’s stupid, if you ask me. And somehow he’s never the one to buy them; it comes out of my earnings.” She swallowed and looked around swiftly, as if someone might have overheard her.
Olivia smiled sympathetically, but inside her thoughts were churning. Things didn’t seem to be going well in her friend’s relationship. She wished she knew how to help. “I’ll walk you to the gas station.” She was pretty sure that’s where Caroline would buy them.
“Great. Let me pick up my food first.”
Several minutes later they reached the head of the line at the station, and Caroline picked out several lottery cards of different kinds.
“Sorry I was so cranky before,” she said when she’d paid for them. “It’s just… when they announce the winners, Devon will get so disappointed, he’ll be a bear to be around for half the day. I wish he’d stop buying them.”
“You’re the one buying them,” Olivia pointed out. “You could stop. At least it wouldn’t be your money down the drain.”
“We live together. It’s pretty much our money,” Caroline said.
“You aren’t married.”
“We’re cohabitating. That’s like a common-law marriage. That’s what Devon says.”
Olivia bit back an unkind remark. Devon didn’t deserve Caroline. Never had. “What do you say?” she asked.
“I think marriage takes a ring and a ceremony.” Caroline bit her lip, then quickly lifted the bag of food from Fila’s. “I need to go. Don’t want dinner getting cold.”
“Of course. See you Sunday?” The last thing Olivia wanted was to push things and end up ruining their friendship.
“Yeah. Sunday,” Caroline echoed, but she didn’t look back.
Olivia watched her go. She wished she knew how to convince Caroline to leave Devon and strike out on her own. The man seemed determined to suck the life out of her friend. Checking the time, Olivia decided to run back to the library. Maybe she could find a book on the subject. She ended up spending an hour in the psychology section reading about controlling men and accommodating women. She still wasn’t sure how best to help Caroline, but she was doubly determined to do so now that she’d read how common it was for guys like Devon to escalate to becoming abusive.
Her dark thoughts made her restless, and she found herself driving over the speed limit several times on her way home. Catching herself again, and slowing down, she decided she needed a distraction.
And she knew just the ticket.
Olivia parked far up the lane to the Flying W and sprinted the rest of the way, slowing when she came in view of the house.
No one seemed to be around, although several trucks were parked out front. She had no doubt Noah and his family were finishing up chores for the day. When she tested it, the front door was, once again, unlocked. The Turners never learned. She crept inside, into the living room and across to the fireplace. She had just placed her hands on the clock when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist.
“You’re not taking that.” Noah’s voice tickled her ear.
She wriggled a bit, realized she wasn’t getting away and sighed. “You could hand it over to make up for the umbrella.”
“Not going to happen.” Noah tightened his grip, and suddenly Olivia was far too aware of the powerful arms beneath her breasts and the hard frame pressed against her back.
A moment later she became aware of something else, too.
“Feels like you’re in the mood for something,” she said acidly.
“I’m serious, Olivia. You’re lucky Liam’s not here. He’s ready to call the sheriff on you—and make sure your photo’s in the paper, too.”
That got her attention; the last thing she wanted was to end up in jail—or in the paper. “I guess it’s a good thing you were the one who caught me,” she said softly.
“Yeah.” His arms tightened around her, and he kissed the top of her head. “Really, though. You need to get out of here.”
Much to her chagrin, he let her go and led the way to the front door. Outside, she paused at the top of the steps. “Virginia hasn’t bought a new one, you know.”
“New what?”
“Umbrella. After that spat at the doctor’s, I tried to find someone to fix it, but I couldn’t, and she won’t buy a new one. Big waste of my time, really.” She gave him a wicked grin. “Which means not only do you owe me a clock, but also you owe me time. A lot of it.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“How about we settle up tonight, at the Ridley place?” She could still use a distraction. Besides, with Devon’s example fresh in her mind, she would remember that men weren’t worthy of trust—or love. She’d get Noah out of her system for good and move on with her life.
He smiled, and Olivia’s insides tangled into a tight knot. Moving on wouldn’t be that easy. “I guess it’s only right to make amends,” Noah said, “but you’re not getting that clock.”
“Then I’ll need to charge you more time.”
“A man has to pay his debts.” Noah looked around, then leaned forward and snatched a quick kiss. “Now get out of here,” he said with a smile.
Olivia found herself grinning, too, despite all ups and downs of the day. But as she walked down the driveway to where she’d parked her truck, her smiled died on her lips when a sheriff’s cruiser drove by.
She recognized Deputy Patrick Mahoney and realized he must be going to see Noah. Had Noah called him when he spotted her trying to steal the clock? Had the rest of it been a way to delay her until they got here?
Heart in her mouth, she waited for the sheriff’s cruiser to slow down and signal her to stop, but it passed right on by.
So he wasn’t after her. Was Noah the one in trouble?
Olivia laughed bitterly as she picked up her pace.
Noah Turner in trouble?
That’d be the day.
“Aren’t you going to offer me some tea or lemonade?” Mahoney drawled. He stood in the doorway, scanning the front hall with a trained eye. “Where are your manners, Turner?”
Truth be told, Noah had forgotten them. The deputy didn’t seem to be here on any official business, but his showing up right after Olivia left had shaken Noah. Had Mahoney seen her?
“I bet you offered Olivia tea,” the deputy added slyly.
Yep, he’d seen her.
Noah sighed and led Mahoney to the kitchen, then fetched them both glasses of lemonade. “What brings you all the way out here?”
The man laid a file on the table and flipped it open. His expression grew serious. “I pulled some records on your Juliet, man. You need to hear this.”
“Records?” Noah’s eyes narrowed. “I never asked you to do that.”
“It’s a thankless job being your friend, Turner. Come take a look. You’re going to want to see these.”
Noah knew he shouldn’t, but Olivia and her family were so secretive, and he ached to understand her better. He handed a lemonade to Mahoney and took the files he held.
“You ever wonder why the Coopers skipped town in the first place years back?” Mahoney asked.
“I know why. Dale went to jail. Enid was pissed and divorced him. She took the kids to live with her sister in Idaho.” His stomach tightened in anticipation of what Mahoney would say. Was the deputy about to tell him Olivia had been complicit in the crime—when she was eleven years old?
Mahoney tapped one of the papers, moving it a little. Noah moved it back so its edges lined up with the rest of the stack. “They were under investigation for poaching,” the deputy began.
Noah frowned. “Poaching? That carries a fine, not jail time.”
“Yeah. Thing is, the sheriff—Cab Johnson’s father—caught Dale in his hunting cabin, and he found a lot more than bear traps there, if you catch my drift.”
“No, I don’t,” Noah said. “If you’re here to warn me about something, tell it to me straight.”
“Fair enough. Dale and his associates were storing weapons there—real weapons. Lots of them. Assault rifles, things like that. Dale was convicted along with several other men of smuggling arms over the border into Canada.”
Noah frowned. He had to admit that sounded pretty bad. Assault rifles were banned in Canada. “What’s that got to do with Olivia?”
“The sheriff knew something was up, had his suspicions what he’d find if he could track Dale down, but he didn’t know the location of his hunting cabin. So he asked Olivia a few questions one day…”
“And she cooperated.” That was a trick to play on a little girl, getting her to rat out her dad. “She cooperated,” he repeated. “Which means she wasn’t a part of whatever Dale was doing.”
“It also means she grew up in a family that doesn’t think twice about running on the wrong side of the law. Think about that, Noah; you’re a parole officer.”
“You have any evidence she’s ever committed a crime?”
“Can’t say that I do. Not sure that matters, though.”
Noah frowned. He knew what Mahoney was trying to say, but this new information only made him feel for Olivia.
“Look, I’m pretty sure Steel’s been involved with smuggling, too. Possibly other crimes. He’s a pretty shady guy. Takes after Dale.”
“But you don’t have any proof.”
“No.”
“What about Lance?”
“I didn’t see anything on him, other than a suspicion he cheats at cards.” Mahoney grinned suddenly. “I’ve heard more than a few complaints about that over the years, but to my way of thinking Lance might just be good at the game.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
Mahoney grew serious again. “Olivia’s trouble for a guy like you, Noah. Come on, anyone can see the attraction. You’re a straight-laced guy with a lot of responsibility hanging on your shoulders. Olivia’s this wild child you want to save.”
“She’s not a wild child.” The memory of her reading in the stacks of the town library crossed his mind again. Far from it.
“She’s not the girl for you. Step away while you still can.”
“I appreciate your concern.”
Mahoney sat back. “But you’re not going to listen to me.”
Noah shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Liar. You do, too. You’re going to sleep with her. And then you’re going to regret it. Well, don’t say I didn’t try to stop you.” Mahoney drained his glass and stood up. “See you around, Turner.”
“See you around.” He let Mahoney show himself out, then realized the man had left his folder behind. On purpose, Noah was sure. Noah stacked the papers inside it and pushed it away. Maybe Mahoney was right; maybe he shouldn’t get tangled up with a woman like Olivia.
But he wanted to.
Several hours later, when darkness had fallen, Noah let himself out of his house quietly so as not to attract the attention of Liam or his sisters, who’d all come home in the meantime. He couldn’t tell them where he was going, and he didn’t want to lie, either. He preferred to slip away unnoticed.
He breathed easier when he turned his truck out of the lane onto the country highway that led to Thorn Hill. Not that he was going to pick up Olivia there; they’d agreed via text she’d walk out to the main road and wait in a nearby turnoff. He supposed they could have met at the Ridley place, but that would be two vehicles for someone to spot. Best to keep things simple. Besides, if he couldn’t take her on a real date, he’d make up for it by playing the gentleman in other ways.
Unfortunately, just as he reached the turnoff where Olivia waited with her arms crossed, he spotted another vehicle’s lights approaching in the oncoming lane. What if the other driver saw them? He pressed on the accelerator and passed her by, hoping Olivia would understand.
As soon as the other truck was out of sight, Noah pulled a quick U-turn and circled back to her. Olivia looked pissed.
“Didn’t you see me?” she asked through the open window. She yanked the door open and climbed into the passenger seat before Noah could hop out and do the honors. “What was that about?”
“Being careful, that’s all. We can’t afford to be seen together.”
Olivia looked away. “Sure.”
Noah’s jaw tightened. She had to understand where he was coming from, but he wasn’t sure how to fill in the ensuing silence. He was grateful when they reached the Ridley property.
“What is it with you and turnoffs today?” she asked when he drove on past the lane leading into it.
He nodded at a copse of trees ahead, silhouetted against the starry sky. “There’s another lane that leads to a field behind those trees. I’ll park there where no one will see us. Don’t want to be interrupted, do we?”
“Whatever.”
Uh-oh. He wasn’t scoring points with his cautiousness. “You don’t want Steel or Lance to know you’re with me, do you?”
“No,” she said shortly, but she kept her head turned away.
Once parked, Noah came around to open her door and took her hand before she could pull away from him. When she let him hold it, he figured all wasn’t lost.
They picked their way down an overgrown path to the abandoned farmhouse, a nondescript old building whose windows were boarded up.
Noah wished he could refurbish it, or tear it down and build a new one. He hated to see something useful like this fall apart. His own house needed work, though. No need to take on a new project, even if his family did manage to win the Founder’s Prize.
“Are we there yet?” Olivia joked as they broke through some bushes and found themselves near the house’s front porch. He was gratified to see she’d regained her sense of humor.
“Do you want to be inside or outside?”
“I don’t think we can get inside.”
“What kind of talk is that for a burglar?” Noah could have kicked himself the moment his words left his lips. Olivia moved away abruptly, and he followed helplessly, wondering if there was any way to salvage this date. “Let’s try in the back,” he said and led the way around the house. They found a flagstone patio and a back door Noah was able to force open with his shoulder.
“Ugh. It smells in here.” Olivia shivered and wrinkled her nose.
“Yes, it does.” Noah looked around. The building seemed structurally sound but that was all anyone could say about it. “Outside?”
“Definitely.” She returned out the door they’d come in and waited while Noah opened the picnic basket he’d packed earlier and pulled out a blanket. She helped him spread it on the flagstones, and they unpacked the rest of the contents. Noah lit a wide candle and placed it to one side where it wouldn’t catch anything on fire.
Now he could make out her expression, which was drawn and wary.
“This is better,” he said with false cheerfulness and set about pouring her a glass of wine.
“I guess so.” Olivia took a sip and visibly relaxed.
Noah relaxed a little, too. It was a beautiful night. The air was warm. Insects sang in the long grasses nearby, and stars were winking into existence in the night above them. If he could stop sticking his foot in his mouth, everything would be fine.
He handed her a foil-wrapped sandwich, and for a few minutes they were too busy eating to talk. Noah searched for something to say. “Wish our families weren’t always at each other’s throats.”
“You know what they say: if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”
“Maybe we could do something about it.” That seemed far-fetched, even to him. Olivia didn’t bother to answer. “I’m glad you’re here, anyway. Back in Chance Creek, I mean,” he went on, wanting to bridge the distance between them. “Your family was gone a long time.”
Olivia stilled. Sent him a cryptic look. “I know, believe me.”
Too late, Noah realized he’d walked into another minefield. “I just meant—”
“It’s my fault, you know,” Olivia said suddenly. “That’s been on my mind a lot. Dad went to jail because of me, and he never got out again.” She set her sandwich down on her paper plate. Her words were light but Noah felt the pain behind them.
He was surprised she’d admitted that, and he softly asked, “What happened?” He needed to hear it from Olivia, even if he’d read it in Mahoney’s file earlier in the day.
“I was dumb. Just a stupid kid. Thought I was doing the right thing reporting a crime and instead helped Cab’s dad bust my father.”
“What do you mean?” That didn’t quite jibe with what he knew.
“I used to play here all the time—with Ma—” She cut off suddenly. “With one of my friends. I had a treehouse back that way.” She pointed off into the distance. “Hung out in it whenever I could. Explored all over the place.”
Noah could imagine it, but he wondered what she’d been about to say before she’d bit back her words. Who had she come here to play with? And why didn’t she want him to know?
“One day we found a field of marijuana growing on the property. I mean, I can’t believe someone managed to hide a crop that large for so long without us knowing, but it wasn’t where we usually hung out. I was walking first, and as soon as I spotted it, I knew exactly what it was. I’d seen pictures in books in the library. I got my friend out of there before she could figure it out. She didn’t realize what she’d seen, thank God. I didn’t know what to do. I figured if someone else found it, they’d blame us. We live right next to that property, and people always said things about my dad. It wasn’t his crop,” she added. “He never sold drugs.”
Noah nodded.
“I brought it up to my mom casually. ‘What would you do if you saw something against the law?’ She was busy doing housework and gave me a brush-off answer: tell the authorities. Now I look back and realize that was a load of baloney. Mom didn’t like what Dad did, but she never reported him. Anyway, the next day when Mom dropped me off at the library I walked over to the sheriff’s office and told the sheriff all about it.”
Hell, Noah thought. And all the while the sheriff had his eye on her father.
“He asked me a bunch of questions. Wanted to know where everyone in my family was so that when he went on the Ridley property, if there was trouble with the growers, none of my folks would be close enough to get hurt. Seemed a reasonable question. I was only eleven,” she added defensively. “I told him where everyone was—including where my dad’s hunting cabin was. I had no idea he knew my father was….” She trailed off and looked down.
“Poaching?” Noah supplied, testing the waters. Would she tell him Dale was running weapons over the border?
She shot him a look he couldn’t interpret. “Did Maya tell you that?”
“Maya? What would Maya know about it?”
Olivia studied him a moment longer and shrugged. “You’re right. He was poaching.”
He was doing far more than that, Noah thought, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to tell Olivia what he’d heard. “Sometimes we don’t really know the people we love.” Noah wished he could make things different for Olivia. She’d lost Dale much too soon, and he had no doubt she’d loved him as much as he’d loved his own father.
“If I wasn’t such a loudmouth, maybe my dad would still be alive today.”
She needed to shut up. Olivia didn’t know why she was telling Noah all of this. He was a Turner, for God’s sake; it wasn’t like he would understand.
“Olivia—you’re not to blame.”
Olivia shut her eyes. Of course she was. “You’re flirting with the daughter of a criminal,” she said bitterly. “And I’m the one who gave him up. Doesn’t that bother you? Or is my checkered past part of the allure?”
“Come on.”
“Well? Is it?” She wasn’t sure why she was pushing him, except that if he was going to ditch her, she wanted him to do it now, before he could break her heart.
Which was ridiculous, she thought. She already cared for him, far too much. Even now, she was willing him to touch her hand. To kiss her. She wanted him to hold her. To make everything else go away.
He didn’t reach out to her, though. She could tell he was searching for the right thing to say. Why didn’t he ask her the obvious question: Had she ever committed a crime?
“Look,” Noah said finally. “I’m not with you for some kind of weird thrill. Not like that, anyway,” he added with a quick grin before growing serious again. “I can’t pretend I don’t have questions about your family, though.”
“Like what?”
“Your brothers… Rumor has it Lance cheats at cards.”
She relaxed a little. Was that all? “I wouldn’t play against him. He took a ton of my allowance away when I was a kid.”
“Heard Steel’s had some trouble, too.”
Olivia stiffened. “Steel… is his own man. I can’t clear up anything for you there.” It was the truth. Her oldest brother had so many secrets she’d stopped trying to fathom them. Sometimes she thought he was following in their father’s footsteps; sometimes she wasn’t sure.
“What about Tory? She hightailed it to Seattle, right? Never came back?”
Olivia bit her lip. Tory was a sore subject. “My sister is as honest as a sunset,” she told Noah. “So is my mom, which is why she left my dad.”
“And left you, too,” Noah pointed out.
Ouch.
“And left me, too,” Olivia repeated. “Just like everyone does sooner or later.”
Noah winced. “Look—”
“No, don’t say it. I know you’re not interested in some long-term deal with me, and I know I came out here on my own volition, but I’ve changed my mind.” She stood up. “I want to go home.”
Noah stood, too. “Olivia—”
“I mean it, Noah.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
“That’s the problem. Neither of us thought this through. This isn’t going to work between us. So let’s not even try. Take me home.” She tossed the dregs of her wine from her glass and bent down to start packing away the picnic.