Page 27 of Delicate Escape

Sutton and I headed out into the evening air, still warm from the scorcher of a day. The sun hung low over the horizon, but plenty of light was left in the sky for me to make it home safely. As we approached my bike, I squinted. Something about it looked off. As we got closer, I saw what it was. Both my tires were flat.

A prickle of unease slid through me as I crouched by the back tire, running my fingers over it. A long, angry slash went straight through the rubber, and the front one had a mirroring slice.

My unease twisted into panic as I scanned the streets. I saw no one but a handful of people outside The Soda Pop—the diner a few blocks down. Other than a couple of restaurants, Sparrow Falls closed up early.

The tiny hairs on the tops of my arms rose. Someone had done this purposefully. Had taken a blade to my tires and then gone on about their night. Or were they watching right now?

Sweat broke out down my spine as panic dug in. Was it Brendan? My mind spun with all the precautions I’d taken. The trust. Never changing my driver’s license from my California one. Nikki owning my car. The post office box two towns over, under the trust’s name. I’d been so careful.

“Oh, my God,” Sutton clipped. “Those damn teenagers.”

My gaze snapped to her. “Teenagers?”

She glared at my bike. “A few of them have been causing all sorts of trouble. Trace brought them in for spray-painting the back of The Pop last week, but a few other store owners have said they didn’tget the message. The boys are still vandalizing whatever they can get their hands on.”

Sutton squeezed my arm. “I’m so sorry. I can give you a ride home and get you new tires.”

Troublemaking teenagers. Random vandalism. That was all it was. I repeated it over and over. But I wasn’t sure I believed it.

10

SHEP

The momentthe sprawling ranch came into view, a familiar feeling spread through me. A warm ache. Gratitude that this was where I’d ended up when it could’ve been so much worse.

The sprawling fields with grazing cattle and a dozen or so horses spread out around the white farmhouse with its wraparound porch. Mom had managed to keep it running with the help of an expert team of ranch hands, even after Dad had passed. But none of us kids had ever gotten the bug to take over the operation.

I pulled between Anson’s dark truck and Fallon’s car. Kye’s blacked-out truck with its intricate detailing sat on the other side of Fallon’s vehicle—always together, even in parking. Trace’s SUV sat closer to the barn, and I knew his daughter, Keely, had likely made him come over early so she could go riding.

Shutting off the engine, I grabbed Arden’s bag.

“I can get it,” she said.

“So can I,” I shot back.

She stuck her tongue out at me. “Always the white knight.”

I didn’t feel like one much these days. I felt like a murky gray one at best. As we walked up the steps, I could already hear the voices inside: Keely’s squeals of delight, Rhodes’ uninhibited laughter, Lolli yelling at someone.

I reached for the doorknob, testing it. Of course, it was open. I scowled down at it but opened the door.

The moment we walked inside, Keely jumped up. “Uncle Shep! Auntie Arden!” She raced toward us, leaping into the air with all her six-year-old strength. I caught her and hauled her into my arms. She immediately leaned toward Arden. “I rode Smoky, and we went so fast! I wanted to keep going all the way to the mountains, but Dad said we had to come back.”

Arden smiled, reaching out to ruffle Keely’s hair as Brutus sat dutifully at her side. “Maybe we can do a camping trip before you go back to school.”

Keely’s eyes went wide with delight, and she twisted in my arms, squirming to get down. She raced back to Trace. “Can we, Daddy? Can we?”

He grinned down at her. “Sure. Weekend after next?”

I knew it burned that Trace didn’t always have his girl. His divorce hadn’t been ugly, but it wasn’t easy either. And it killed him every time he lost Keely for a week.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Keely shouted, dancing around the room.

Mom chuckled as she crossed to me and Arden. “So happy you made it.” She reached up onto her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. Nora Colson wasn’t a tall woman, but the fierceness in her tiny frame was unparalleled.

She pulled Arden into a hug, rocking her back and forth. “I’ve missed you.”

Arden was a bit awkward with the affection but hugged Mom back anyway. “Sorry, Nora. Been in the art haze.”

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