Chapter Eight
Ash turned into a building and halted by the door. “Why so sad all of the sudden?”
“Sad? Me? Nah.” Who the heck was he? My very own mood monitor?
He sighed and opened the door for me. “Lying is just not you, Lia.”
But what choice did I have?
We entered an office. Ash introduced himself to the receptionist, who guided us to an expansive suite furnished with imitation leather couches. A slight gentleman wearing a twill jacket with leather elbow patches sat in an enormous executive chair that dwarfed him by comparison. He was an Isaac Newton look-alike, sporting an exuberant salt-and-pepper mane and a dark mustache that curved down his chin.
“My boy!” He leaped out of his chair and pumped Ash’s hand. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve been leaving messages and sending emails, trying to contact you every which way. I was so glad to hear you’d made an appointment.” He slapped Ash on the back. “And look at you. Your father would’ve been so proud.”
Ash granted him one of his warm smiles and turned to me. “Lia, this is Jack Latoya. Jack, have you met Lia Stuart?”
“Ah, Lia, yes, of course.” Jack shook my hand. “We’ve met before. Lia was a great friend to your grandmother. She helped Wynona when she broke her hip last year.”
“It was nothing, really,” I mumbled embarrassedly.
“Lia here is being too modest,” Jack said to Ash. “Wynona told everyone who’d listen that she couldn’t have gotten along without Lia’s help. And so that you know, Lia aided me with the arrangements when Wynona passed. She was very helpful.”
“Is that so?” Ash’s gaze caressed my face.
It was as if the lush lashes that fringed his eyes tickled my soul. God almighty. When he looked at me like that the rest of the world faded from my sight. I had to make a conscious effort to focus on the attorney.
Jack eyed Neil with a hint of fear. “That’s a big-ass wolf.”
“Don’t worry,” Ash said. “He doesn’t bite.”
Neil tilted his head and, ears forward, wagged his tail.
“Thank goodness for small favors,” Jack said. “Now, please, sit down.”
Ash lowered himself into the club chair across the desk with a measure of care. Jack tried to help, but Ash waved him away. For a moment, Jack just stood there, shifting on his feet, looking uncomfortable, like people often do when they first meet someone sick or disabled.
I eyed Ash with growing concern. He was hurting again. The cane slipped from his hold and clattered on the floor, but Jack retrieved it and tucked it into an umbrella stand by the door. Ash tapped the chair next to him, so I sat down, despite feeling completely out of place.
“I’m glad you’re back.” Jack went over to the wall cabinet. “I worried about you. You just, pfft, fell off the continent.”
“I’m here now,” Ash said. “I’m fine.”
“Of course you are.” Jack opened a cabinet door that concealed a mirrored bar. “You always were tough as nails. Do you remember that time when you, your father and I were riding out at the ranch and that surly mustang of yours threw you into the barbed wire fence?”
“I remember quite well.” Ash chuckled. “I have the scars to prove it.”
“It took your father and me a whole twenty minutes to cut you out of that mess. Lia, you should’ve seen it. He looked like a goddamn porcupine. He was no taller than my waist, but do you think the little son of a bitch cried? Nary a tear, I tell you.”
I had no trouble believing that.
“How about a drink?” Jack picked out a crystal tumbler from the shelves.
I shook my head.
“Pass,” Ash said. “I keep the tank on clean and sober these days.”
Jack poured for himself then raised the tumbler in the air. “To your health.” He took a sip and looked at Ash with kind eyes. “Son, it gives my old heart joy to see you again. But why didn’t you call to tell me that you were in the hospital? Why didn’t you come stay with me instead of renting a room so far away from town?”
“I didn’t want to bother anyone,” Ash said. “I really like it out by the lake.”
“You were always an independent young buck.” Jack balanced his drink in one hand as he sat down. “‘You can’t put a yoke on a wild steed,’ Wynona used to say. How I miss the old gal.”
Tears swelled in the man’s eyes. Tears stung my eyes too, but I held them back in deference to Ash, who acknowledged Jack’s grief with a blank-faced nod.
“I’m sorry.” The attorney cleared his throat. “I’m a doddering old fool. I suppose there’s no way around this. After all, Wynona trusted me with her legal affairs. We have much to discuss, private family business. I’m sure you understand, dear?”
“Sure, yes.” I stood up. “How about I wait outside?”
“Splendid,” Jack said.
“No need,” Ash said. “Lia, please, stay.”
I looked from one man to the other. Jack’s expression left no doubt that he wanted me gone, but if Ash wanted me to stay, then I’d stay. After all, I was his caretaker. I sat down again, in spite of Jack’s poorly disguised frown.
Jack opened a folder and consulted his notes. “The will is the first order of business. Your grandmother left all her cash assets and worldly possessions to you and appointed you as the executor of the trust. Do you know what you want to do with the ranch?”
“Not yet,” Ash said.
“The county is cracking down on vacant and abandoned properties. You’ll need to clean up and secure it by the end of the month. They’re willing to waive the fines, since you’re a wounded veteran currently listed as disabled.”
Ash stiffened in his chair. I winced. Jack had managed to prickle Ash’s pride three ways and he didn’t even notice.
“I don’t expect any kind of exceptions,” Ash said. “The ranch will be in compliance by the end of the month. I’ve already set the wheels into motion.”
“Good,” Jack said. “Next on the agenda, the contract with Gas General expires at the end of the year. You need to decide whether you’ll be renewing it. Gary Woods has called many times to discuss the matter. He’s looking to talk to you directly.”
“What’s your take on this?” Ash said.
“You hold the cards.” The attorney took a sip of his drink and leaned back in his chair. “Prices have skyrocketed and your yields have multiplied. You’re in a position to negotiate a killer deal, that is, if you want to stick with Gas General and good old Woods.”
“I need to think about it,” Ash said.
Jack pushed a sheaf of papers across his desk and parked them before Ash. “There’s also this.”
“What is it?”
“The reason why I’ve been calling you day and night.” Jack grinned excitedly.
“A proposal that can take care of all your headaches.”
Ash leafed through the document. “What kind of a proposal?”
“A good one,” Jack said. “From Aenergies Global.”
“The Aenergies Global?”
“The largest provider of gas-based energy services in the world.” Jack’s blue eyes sparkled. “They want to buy your lands, the existing gas fields and the property in its entirety, without any contingencies or conditions. In cash.”
Ash scanned the first page and whistled. “That’s a hell of a lot of money.”
“More zeroes than the average American can count.”
“But the property has been in my family all the way back to the settlement.”
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“My grandmother wouldn’t have liked the idea.”
“Wynona was a woman of her world,” Jack said. “Yours is a different world. How much time have you spent here since you went away for college?”
“Not a lot,” Ash conceded.
“With that kind of money, you could live in luxury and travel at leisure. You could fund some other start-ups or you could capitalize on some of the other businesses and investments you’ve got going. You, your children and your grandchildren could live like kings. Hell, you could buy half of Colorado if you really wanted to stick around here with us losers.”
Wow. I was astonished. Wynona was rich? And Ash stood to become even richer with this Aenergies deal?
I’d known the Hunters were a prominent local family, but I hadn’t realized the extent of their wealth until that very moment. Wynona had lived in the old ranch house, a fine, comfortable home, but not huge or luxurious. She lived simply, selling her custom-made jewelry to a few shops and over the internet. Her biggest expense was her charity work.
From what I’d seen so far, Ash didn’t lack for anything, but didn’t live extravagantly either. He’d chosen to live in the cottage not because it was cheap, but because it was out-of-the-way, on the lake and peaceful. I had assumed he lived on his military benefits, so it was a shock to learn that the Hunter family trust was so significant and that beyond his military career, Ash was also an accomplished businessman. It explained all the time he spent on his cell and working on his computer. Every time I blinked, I discovered a brand-new facet of the man.
On the other hand, I couldn’t help wonder what Wynona would have said about the Aenergies proposal. She loved Ash but she also loved the land.
“I don’t know.” Ash scanned the document. “This goes against my grain.”
“Grain can be shaped, stained and polished,” Jack said. “And you could join the ranks of the world’s mega rich. This is a limited-time proposal, son. Let me explain.”
Jack rattled out the terms, but Ash wasn’t paying attention. Maybe the pain was getting to him. Maybe his emotions had finally gotten the best of him, or perhaps he was having flashbacks. Neil’s ears were swiveling every which way. He stared at his owner with what looked to me like canine concern, grumbling occasionally. Jack was too involved in his explanations to notice, but I could tell that Ash was perturbed.
“I need to go.” Ash tucked the contract under his arm, braced his hands on the desk and got up. “I’ll call you.”
He looked around for his cane, but he couldn’t reach it all the way in the corner. For a moment he just stood there, balancing on his good foot, looking pained and trapped. Instinct and habit kicked in. I sprang to my feet, grabbed the cane from the stand and gave it to him. He leaned on the cane and, with Neil at his heels, headed for the door at top limping velocity.
“Where are you going?” Jack said. “What do you want me to tell these people?”
“I’ll let you know,” Ash said, before fleeing the room. “Later, Jack.”
Jack stared at the door, then at me, shaking his head. “The boy’s changed.” He tsked. “Traumatic brain injury. It can affect even the brightest minds.”
The heat that ignited my face represented only a fraction of my outrage. Couldn’t Jack recognize the huge effort Ash had to make just to be here?
No, he couldn’t. Like most people, Jack didn’t have a clue. I had to suppress my temper before I was able to address Jack with a measure of civility.
“Ash is fine,” I said as evenly as I could manage. “He’s the most rational person I know and he’s perfectly capable of making his own decisions.”
“I sure hope so.” He handed me a small key from the file. “Wynona left this for him. She said he’d know what it was for. Will you give it to him?”
“Sure.”
I said my farewells and left the office. It wasn’t Ash’s traumatic brain injury acting up. It was his PTSD. It pained me to admit it, but he faced a steep learning curve, because according to everything I’d read and studied in the past few weeks, before he could conquer his PTSD, he had to learn to live with it.
I knew what it was like to live with memories that tore you up every day. I knew what it felt like to live with the enemy inside, always watching, always waiting to pounce when you least expected. It was like being hooked on Red Rush, like having poison in your system all the time, blood gushing through your veins at blinding speed, brain high on adrenaline, heart pounding in your ears. It was a different kind of slavery than I had suffered, but it was slavery all the same.
* * *
I half expected to find Ash slumped over the wheel or locked in the truck. I didn’t. A note stuck beneath the windshield wipers announced that he would meet me at this spot in a couple of hours. He left the truck’s keys under the driver’s side mat so I could run my errands. Since I was running late, I headed over to the church, picked up the meals and drove on to distribute them to the regulars on my list.
Mrs. Pearson welcomed me joyfully, as always. I sat with her while she ate, noting that she had a good appetite today. Her canaries trilled happily, but I took a moment to clean the cage before I left. At the trailer park, my landlord, Silas Ford, was next on the list. He put down his chow in five minutes, confirming between gulps that no, he didn’t have any money to put into the cottage’s broken furnace. Mr. Poden refused to open the door as usual, but accepted the meal through the window. When I popped open the cans of cat food I’d picked up at the convenience store, his eleven cats showed up for dinner.
As soon as I finished, I drove back into town. Ash waited for me on a bench around the corner, with Neil sitting next to him on the leash. I noticed a top-of-the line RV parked nearby and three men standing with Ash as I pulled up. The guys reminded me of Ash when he first came to my door. Each was fit in their own way, and maybe even good-looking, but there was something haunted about their eyes, about the way they stared at me, at the world, as they shook hands with Ash.
One of the guys looked like a kid with thick glasses, despite a scruffy goatee. The tallest one hugged his arms close to his body and wore his long curly hair tied in a bushy ponytail. The guy with the high and tight sat in a high-tech wheelchair.
“Hey,” Ash said, climbing into the cab.
“Hey to you too.” I slid over as Neil jumped in the back and Ash took my place at the wheel. “Who are those fellows?”
“Some old friends I hadn’t seen in a while.” Ash buckled in, waved and drove off.
I checked out the men in the rearview mirror. “Friends from the Navy?”
“Aye-aye, Herr Kommandant.”
I laughed. “You can’t blame me for being curious.”
“Of course, not, Miss Holmes.”
“You haven’t been seeing too many people lately.”
“These guys are different,” he said. “They’re my friends.”
I liked the idea of Ash having friends around. Good friends could only be helpful to Ash’s recovery. They’d also be helpful if I had to leave in a hurry. My heart sank at the thought.
“We ought to have them over for dinner,” I said.
“Awesome idea.” He flashed his best smile. “We could grill steaks.”
“What are they doing in this neck of the woods?”
“I heard through the grapevine that they were looking for work.”
“All vets?”
He nodded. “They’re going to set up camp at the ranch and help me clear the charred ruins so that we won’t fit the county’s categories for abandoned or unsafe anymore.”
“Great, that makes sense, although...”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He glanced at me. “You—preacher of ‘People get hurt all the time and they still have happy and productive lives’—you’re now wondering how a guy stuck in a wheelchair can be of help. Admit it. You have your hang-ups too.”
“Perhaps I am wondering a little.”
“Manny Rivera is the most brilliant technical mind you’ll ever meet,” Ash said. “Christ knows, the old tractor at the ranch needs all the help it can get. He can fix, rig and operate any piece of equipment, high-tech or not. Like that wheelchair of his. He drives it like an ATV. And that customized RV he uses to travel around the country? It’s a goddamn work of art.”
“Impressive,” I said. “Where’s his family?”
“His wife divorced him,” Ash said. “She said she wanted children.”
“Oh.” How was that for a rotten deal? “What about the tall one with the ponytail? What’s his story?”
“Wang Ho was possibly the best marksman of our generation until he lost his right arm in an ambush in Afghanistan.”
“What a terrible loss.”
“More like a national tragedy.”
“And the one that looks like he’s fourteen years old?”
“Will ‘Kid’ Jackson may look deceivingly young, but in his time, he could hack his way into the Ayatollah’s hearing aid if need be. He still can hack with the best of them, but a TBI left him with a disability that makes him virtually unemployable.”
“How so?”
“Will suffers from a very specific form of brain damage that affects only the verbal section of the brain. It’s similar to Tourette’s syndrome. Sometimes, when he’s excited or stressed, he blurts out stuff.”
“What do you mean ‘stuff?’”
“Rude comments, inappropriate behaviors, songs. But other than that, his IQ still rules the MENSA charts.”
“That’s a lot of brainpower between the four of you.”
“I think maybe we could find a way to clear a bunch of debris, don’t you?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “I didn’t mean to put down your friends.”
“We all do it.” He let out a long breath. “Besides, you don’t have to tiptoe around me. I can manage my moods.”
“Too much for one day?”
“Maybe,” he admitted reluctantly.
“It’s good to know one’s limits,” I said. “What else did you do today?”
“I visited with a couple of locals, set up my rehab schedule, went to the bank.” He took off his knit cap. “Oh, and I went to the barber shop.”
“Wow.” I reached over and ran my fingers through his freshly cut hair. “Looks great.”
Touching him released the swarm in my tummy. What was it about the way he looked at me that made me feel warm and fuzzy inside?
Warm and fuzzy? I hadn’t been warm and fuzzy since I was fourteen and had developed a serious crush on the boys of *NSYNC. I wanted to slap myself.
Ash’s eyes darkened. “I also went to the cemetery.”
“Oh.” My throat tightened. “Are you...all right?”
“I’ll live.” His eyes were fixed on the road. “She’s where she would have wanted to be, between Gramps and Dad. The groundskeeper said you insisted that’s where she had to be buried. Thanks, Lia.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m curious,” he said. “Did Nona ever mention anything to you about selling the ranch?”
“No, we never talked about stuff like that.”
“What did you two talk about?”
“Well, let’s see, she loved to talk shop about her jewelry designs. The news, she had tons of commentary on world affairs. Her charity work. It was very important to her. But by far her favorite subject was you. She loved to tell me stories about you and how wonderful, smart and handsome you were.”
“Really?” He flashed his lopsided grin. “And was she right about any of those things?”
I laughed. “What are you, on a fishing expedition?”
“I’m clearly using the wrong lure on this trout.” He grinned, then sobered up. “A lot of people in town would lose their jobs if I sold to Aenergies. Call me a fool, but that bothers me.”
“I don’t think you’re a fool.”
“I don’t like it,” he said, all of the sudden.
“You don’t like what?”
“The way people look at you when they think there’s something wrong with you. Like Jack. He doesn’t think I’m the same guy as before.”
“And that bothers you?”
“I feel like I have to prove myself all the time.”
“Don’t fall into the temptation then,” I said. “You don’t need to prove anything to anybody. Speaking of Jack.” I pulled out the key from my purse. “He asked me to give you this. He told me that Wynona said you’d know what it was for.”
“Hmm.” He fingered the key in his hand. “Mind if we take a detour?”
I didn’t like detours. They messed with my head. They messed with my resolutions, my plans and my heart too. But Ash accelerated around a curve and veered right instead of left at the junction.
Within a few minutes, we turned into a private road that opened up to a striking valley surrounded by derelict pastures. Beyond the pastures, forests of aspen, spruce and lodgepole pines spread over hills that grew into ragged mountains. As we went around the bend and sighted the river, the charred remains of the Hunter house came into view. Autumn’s splendid colors couldn’t soften the terrible sight.
I waited by the truck, granting Ash his space while he surveyed the outbuildings. Neil stuck to him as if his fur was made out of Velcro. Together, they approached the ruins. My heart fisted in my chest.
The fire had consumed most of the home, leaving only a crumbling section of the chimney and a pile of rubble strewn over the foundation. Gas leak, the fire chief had said. Wynona had probably passed out well before the place burned down.
When it first happened, I’d wondered if it was my fault. She was my friend, and, God knew, bad things happened to my friends. I made all kinds of inquiries, but Jack had hired a high-profile investigative team that confirmed the chief’s conclusion and the sheriff agreed with their findings. He’d assured me it had been an accident. I’d been heartbroken. I could only begin to imagine how Ash felt.
Ash circled the house and got lost behind the pile. I heard the hollow sound of metal hitting metal and a crash. Worried, I followed his tracks and found the cellar’s trapdoor thrown open and Neil fidgeting at the top of a set of questionable stairs, ears swiveling in all directions.
“Ash?” I peered into the dark. “Are you down there?”
No answer.
“Come back,” I said. “I don’t think that’s such a hot idea.”
Something rustled in the darkness. I heard tugging, dragging and then another crash. A cloud of dirt and ashes blew out of the trapdoors.
Neil whined.
“Don’t worry,” I muttered to the dog. “You wait here. I’ll go find him.”
I worked my way down the rickety stairs, avoiding the carbonized wood piles and stepping around the collapsed sections. I groped for the little flashlight I kept on my keychain, only to remember it had no batteries.
Darn it.
I floundered about, tripping on stuff, clambering over a collapsed ceiling beam. A sound caught my attention. A light bounced off a wall around the corner. Groping like a blind woman, I went toward the light.
Ash crouched next to the safe lying on the floor. The little key Jack had given me protruded from the lock. He was reading a piece of paper. Two or three high-powered hunting rifles and three handguns were neatly stacked in there, along with some ammunition. Wearing a blank expression on his face, Ash folded the paper, tucked it in his pocket and looked up.
“You shouldn’t have come down here,” he said. “It’s not safe.”
“Yep,” I said. “You shouldn’t be here either.”
“The safe is fireproof,” he said as a way of explanation. “Catch.”
His flashlight landed between my hands. I held it up, illuminating the scene. He grabbed one of the guns and, pointing it safely away, checked it to ensure it wasn’t loaded. He tested each weapon methodically, before tucking them into a case that had also been stowed in the safe. When he was done, he slung the case over his shoulder and stood up with the help of his cane. Lugging the heavy load, he came to stand beside me.
“What was in the safe?” I said. “I mean, in addition to the weapons?”
“Old pictures,” he said. “Some small things Nona wanted to preserve for me. And this.”
He pulled the paper out of his pocket and showed me what was written on it. Remember to trust your instincts.
“She used to tell me to trust my instincts all the time.”
“She was right,” I said. “You’ve got a good brain.”
“I’m glad you think that’s the case.” He refolded Wynona’s note and tucked it in his pocket. “Because you don’t trust your instincts at all, or anyone else’s for that matter, which leaves the guesswork up to me.” He fixed his eyes on my face. “Lia,” he said. “I need to know. For sure.”
“Know what?”
His eyes gleamed under the flashlight’s beam. The scent of him rose above the smell of ashes and soot. His face gave nothing away, but his intensity ratcheted up. I was suddenly very aware of him, of how close he was, of how much closer he got to me when he leaned over, until the glow became a tiny circle reflecting the minute creases on his leather jacket.
His mouth found my lips without trouble. His lips brushed against mine with exquisite gentleness and yet the contact struck me like a jolt. The glimmer reflected in his eyes became my only point of reference. Then I closed my eyes and needed no light, because even with my eyes closed, he lit up my world.
It shouldn’t be, couldn’t be. The flashlight fell out of my hands. It clanged on the ground, but I didn’t care. He deepened his kiss, savoring my mouth, lending me a taste of his body by way of his tongue and challenging my resolutions. He never touched me. He did nothing to prevent me from bolting and yet I couldn’t move. My feet melted into the ground. I had a vision of my body combusting from the heat flaring in me, bursting into ashes, joining with the soot clinging to the walls.
I don’t know how long he kissed me. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? But I knew the exact moment when the kiss ended. My body went dark. Total outage. All the light in the world died when his lips broke contact with mine.
He left me gasping for breath. The sound of our ragged breaths echoed in the cellar.
“Jesus,” he rasped.
“Ash, I can’t—”
“Lia?” He kissed me again, another delicious, brain-melting event. “I know what you mean to say, about the danger and all of that? But it is what it is.”
He bent down, picked up the flashlight from the floor and, after turning it back on, pointed the light in the direction of the stairs. “There’s nothing I can do about this. I won’t apologize and neither will you. Go on. Before I kiss you again.”
I didn’t stop running until I was back in the truck, whole, hale and safe—well, maybe not exactly safe, not considering my circumstances, and especially not safe from my newest worst enemy: myself.