Lauren Nichols

On Deadly Ground


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as she was, she couldn’t overlook the obvious. He was a big, attractive, well-built man, and he looked good sitting on her steps. Almost as though he belonged there.

      “Ignore him,” Jake said. “He’s not worth your time. The man’s a dyed-in-the-wool chauvinist with zero respect for women.”

      “Did I say I was upset?”

      “You didn’t have to,” he returned with a faint grin. “The flames shooting out of your nostrils spoke volumes.”

      Rachel accepted the coffee mug he handed her. “Sorry. Apparently, I get grumpy when I’m shunned.” She took a sip. “But the man got so far under my skin that I was afraid I’d have to see a surgeon.” She met his amused brown eyes. Then she smiled, too—until a subtle wave of tension moved between them, and she had to look away.

      “Do you ever wonder what makes people like Perris tick?” she asked, masking her uneasiness. “What possesses someone to be deliberately rude?”

      Something in Jake’s tone told her he’d felt that brief connection, too. It was a hesitance—something she couldn’t put a name to. “Hard telling. Basic unhappiness? Lousy upbringing? No social skills? We’ve all dealt with people like that.”

      “Not like him.”

      “No?”

      “No,” she repeated. “Most people I come in contact with are pretty decent. They say, ‘Hello,’ they say, ‘Have a nice day,’ and they don’t give women dismissive looks. Then there’s the lovely Mr. Perris.”

      “Count your blessings. At least with Perris, what you see is what you get. He doesn’t pretend to be something he’s not. Some people—” Jake’s tone cooled. “Some people are so good at hiding their feelings that it takes months to see who they really are. Even then, you can’t be sure you’re on point.”

      The knowledge that he was no longer talking about Perris landed with a thud, and Rachel’s uneasiness faded. She glanced at him again. When he’d first arrived, they’d talked like all new neighbors do. Nothing personal—just everyday chitchat that had led her to ask if he had a family. He’d joked that he’d been engaged once, but luckily his head had cleared before he’d taken that trip to the altar. Is that what he’d been referring to? she wondered. His broken engagement? And was that hurt or anger she’d heard in his voice?

      “Jake?”

      Flashing a smile that never reached his eyes, he stood, drained his coffee and stepped down to the ground. “Sorry. We’ll have to continue this stimulating conversation another time. I need to change for work, and you have things to do in town.”

      He handed her his cup. Then, as though he’d done it dozens of times before, he surprised her by taking her hand and easing her up from the step, bringing them eye-to-eye. Rachel drew a soft breath. His sun-warmed hand was broad and tanned, and after a brief moment, she took hers back. He started for home.

      “Have a good morning.”

      “You, too,” she said, her emotions warring with her sense of propriety. Despite the pangs of guilt she couldn’t ignore, she liked him. She honestly liked him. And lifting her chin, she told herself there was nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all.

      But ten minutes later when she entered the living room to turn on the morning news, David smiled at her from their gold-framed wedding photograph, and tears welled in her eyes.

      Holy Savior Elder Care was set on beautifully landscaped grounds, the low, white brick building ablaze with bright yellow forsythias, vibrant greenery and red and yellow tulips. Ringed with more spring flowers, a snow-white statue of Jesus sitting with children at his knee rested on a raised platform before the wood-framed double-door entrance.

      Jake crossed the parking lot and went inside, asked for directions, then proceeded past pink-and-green floral wallpaper to the activities room. He spotted Rachel at one of the tables, chatting with two elderly women who were cutting coupons from newspaper supplements. At the front of the room, other residents worked on puzzles or watched a rerun of Little House on the Prairie. He stopped just short of the doorway, feeling conspicuous in his uniform.

      Rachel glanced up in surprise, beckoned another volunteer over to take her place, then strode into the hall to meet him.

      “Jake?” she said, slightly alarmed. “Is something wrong?”

      “No. Not wrong, exactly. But I was having an early lunch at the diner with some friends, and Perris came in.” He glanced around. The hall had gotten busy with visitors and nurses aides wheeling residents to other venues. “Can we talk somewhere else? I know you’re busy. I won’t keep you long.”

      “Of course. Let me talk to Gail—she’s the activities director—then I’ll see you outside.”

      A few minutes later, he watched her breeze through the home’s double doors. Sunlight glanced off the small gold cross she wore with tiny gold earrings, a white knit top and deep purple chinos. Trying to ignore the uninvited change in his pulse, Jake joined her on the sidewalk and reminded himself he was only here to make a pitch for protection. Nothing more. No matter how beautiful she looked.

      They fell into step together, strolling past bright yellow goldfinches pecking seeds from multilevel feeders “So what’s up?” Rachel asked. “What did Perris tell you?”

      Jake glanced down at her. “He said your visitor had to have made a second trip back to your place last night.”

      “I know. He mentioned that to me before he left. He said the light ‘chinking’ sounds I heard earlier weren’t consistent with someone banging a screwdriver into a fuel tank.” She glanced up at him. “Did he tell you that whoever damaged Tim’s dozer got the hammer and screwdriver from Decker’s own toolbox?”

      “Yeah, he did.”

      She sighed. “I’m not sure I like someone coming and going at will on my property.”

      “I’m not wild about it, either,” Jake said gravely. “Which brings me to the reason I’m here. When Perris said the guy came back, your living alone in the woods really started to bother me. I think you should get a dog.”

       “A dog?”

      He had to smile. He liked the way her sable bangs just missed colliding with her dark eyelashes, liked her sea-green eyes. “Yeah, a dog. They look a lot like Maggie—four legs and a lot of fur. Good ones bark up a storm when their owners are threatened.”

      The little lift he felt when she grinned took a sudden nosedive.

      “David loved dogs—big, slurpy breeds. And we did consider getting one for a time. But we worried that a big dog and our guests might not be a good mix.”

      Jake looked away for an instant—told himself that Rachel’s mentioning David wasn’t any big deal. “Then you get a smaller, even-tempered dog with a big bark.”

      “Maybe someday,” she said. “But I don’t see the need right now. The man I saw last night was angry at Tim, not me.” She glanced toward the home’s entrance, then brought her pretty gaze back to him. “Was there … something else?”

      Annoyed with himself, he shook his head. Now she probably thought he’d made a special trip to talk to her, when he could have phoned or stopped at the campground later. “No, that’s it. I just thought I’d drop in because I had to pass the nursing home anyway.”

      “Oh. Well, thank you.” She consulted her wrist-watch, and the sun glanced off the gold wedding band on her finger. “I’d better get back inside now, though. It’s almost lunchtime, and some of my friends need help with their food.”

      With the workload waiting for her at the campground, she still took time to help others. He liked that about her. But today he wouldn’t tell her she was fabulous—or whatever idiotic word he’d used last night that made them both uncomfortable. “I have to go, too. But think about what I said.”