asked softly.
“That’s part of the reason,” she replied and went back inside. When she returned, she had a small bag, her purse and her keys. “Let’s get out of here.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Grandpa Garnier: You can just about always stand more
than you think you can.
DAKOTA SAT ON THE veranda of Gabe Holbrook’s cabin. Along with her purse and makeup kit, she’d already deposited her small satchel in one of the guest bedrooms, and she’d rocked Braden back to sleep when he woke up after they got home. But she wasn’t in any hurry to go to bed herself. She couldn’t unwind, couldn’t relax. She hoped to sort through her thoughts and emotions while listening to the cicadas and admiring the full moon, which seemed close enough to reach out and touch.
“You okay?”
She hadn’t heard the front door open, so Tyson’s presence surprised her. She’d assumed he’d retired for the night. “I’m fine,” she said, but her lip was numb and swelling from the whack her father had given her with his cane, and she could still taste blood from where her teeth had cut the inside of her cheek. “I’m thinking of going back.”
“What?”
She bristled at the incredulity in his voice, but she didn’t really have another option. For all she knew, her father was sitting in a jail cell. And, if not for the accident she’d caused, he’d be just like he was before—a sober, rational, good man. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“According to what your neighbors said, what happened tonight happens fairly often.”
“Not so often,” she argued.
“Once is too much.”
He was right, but there was a lot more to it than what he knew. “It’s complicated.”
“You want to explain it to me?”
The scent of the surrounding forest—wet earth, evergreen trees, cool wind—filled her nostrils as she hauled in a deep breath. “Not really.”
The floorboards creaked as he sat in the chair across from her. “You’re more guarded than anyone I’ve ever met, you know that?”
She laughed aloud. “And you’re an open book?”
He shrugged.
“According to People, you hide what you really feel behind a megawatt smile and slip out of the limelight at the first opportunity.”
“They don’t know anything about me.”
“I think that was their point. You don’t let anyone close enough.”
He seemed uncomfortable with that statement, but he didn’t argue with it. Getting up again, he moved restlessly around the porch, eventually leaning on the railing. “It’s beautiful here.”
She let him change the subject. They were employer and employee, and had only met this morning. They had no business getting into each other’s personal lives. “Gabe’s taken good care of the place.” She sank more comfortably into the chair Gabe had built when he was first learning to work with wood after he lost his football career. “He’s quite a man. Have you been to his shop, seen some of the furniture he’s building these days?”
The porch light brightened one side of Tyson’s face as he turned. Only the subtle hollow beneath his cheekbone bore any shadow. “You mean the store? In town?”
“Yeah. It’s across from his wife’s photography studio on Main Street.”
“I’ve been there, even bought a few things. It’s in a cool building.”
“An old one, built in the late 1800s. That used to be Rudy Perez’s cabinet shop before he passed away.”
“You know a lot about the people in your community.” Tyson made that comment as if he’d experienced the exact opposite, as if he didn’t know much about anyone. Which made her suspect she’d been right earlier: he didn’t let anyone close.
“I’ve lived here my whole life.” Sometimes she thought she’d never escape….
“Have you ever considered moving away?”
“Every day.”
Her immediate and unqualified response seemed to surprise him. “You don’t like it?”
“Can you blame me? I’m working at the pharmacy making eight bucks an hour. The folks who own it are wonderful, don’t get me wrong. They’d pay me more if they could. But that isn’t what I always envisioned for my life.”
“So what’s keeping you?” he asked.
She laughed mirthlessly. “I’ll give you one guess.”
“That’s a pretty big sacrifice for someone who just bloodied your lip.”
It was her turn to avoid answering. “I’m going inside. I need to call the police and see what’s happened to him.”
“I’ve already talked to them.”
His words stopped her before she could reach the door, and she whipped around. “They called here? And you didn’t tell me?”
Putting his back to her, he sat on the front steps. “I contacted them.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to see what we could work out,” he said over his shoulder.
Dakota had never had anyone step between her and her father before. Most people muttered that she was crazy to stick around, or they gave Skelton disgruntled looks for how he sometimes treated her. Which only made her situation worse, because she was always in the middle, trying to defend him. But this was the first time someone had contacted the police for something other than to complain about the noise. “And?” she asked hesitantly.
“We made a deal.”
“You didn’t think to discuss it with me first?” Anger put an edge to her voice.
He twisted to face her. “I can’t imagine you’ll have a problem with it. It’s the best possible solution, for everyone.”
Spoken like a true egotist. He thought it was best, so it must be best. But if he really had an answer, she was eager to hear it. She’d been searching for a way out of her current situation for years. “I’m waiting.”
“They said they’d overlook what happened tonight if you’d stay away from your father in the future.”
“How’s that a solution?” she cried. “I’m the one who takes care of him. Half the time he doesn’t eat unless I prepare his food. And we can’t afford two households.”
He stood up, leaned against the pillar that supported the porch and crossed his arms. “I hired the brother of one of the police officers—a Terrance Bennett—to look after him in the evenings and at night when you’d typically be off work.”
“You what?”
“I hired some help.”
“For how long?”
“For the next two months. That way, you can stay here. If the arrangement works, maybe you can even go back to California with me.”
Dakota was speechless, torn between gratitude that this man, who’d only hired her today, would be willing to help her to such a degree, pique that he’d interfered in her situation without consulting her and excitement to think she had the opportunity to go to California. How hard could it be to raise one baby who would never want for anything, while living in a mansion—maybe on the beach—with a professional football player? Think of the places she’d get to see, the people she might meet…
Her mind raced with the possibilities. But she couldn’t