Page 46 of Tempting Fate
The derision in Rhys’ voice bothered Gabe. He tried to tell himself that it was because Raylene was Logan’s flesh and blood, but the damned truth of it was he liked her. Yeah, she was a head trip, but she was also fun. And adventurous. And frankly, despite everyone’s opinion to the contrary, she seemed like a decent person. She even volunteered at a woman’s shelter, which, admittedly, had come as a shock to Gabe. She’d never struck him as the altruistic type.
Raylene had once told Logan that she was afraid of Butch. But Gabe had always assumed it was a pampered woman’s ploy to manipulate her half brother. Get him to help her move her crap out of the Denver house before Butch could claim it in the divorce. Maybe Gabe had misjudged. Maybe Butch used to knock her around. Just the thought of it made him sick to his stomach.
“Yep,” Gabe said, and left it at that. “Anyway, as ridiculous as it sounds, someone stole that pickax. It was there when we left and gone when we returned an hour later.”
They found two stools at the bar. The restaurant was quiet for a Sunday. There were a couple of TVs playing, but the sound had been turned down. And about half the tables were empty. Rhys flagged down the bartender at the other end of the bar and ordered them a Sierra Nevada.
“You think it’s our drifters?”
“Could be. I can’t imagine anyone else taking it. Besides the McCreedys and the Rodriguezes on one side and Flynn and Gia on the other, no one is around for miles. Raylene thought one of the kids might’ve been playing around with the stuff, but I don’t see it.”
Rhys shook his head. “Me neither. But I’ll call Clay just to make sure.” He fished his phone out of his pocket. “I’m texting Wyatt to tell him to cruise the back roads while he’s on duty tonight.”
Gabe nodded. “I’m sure it’s harmless, but Logan’s gonna be pissed about his pick disappearing.”
Rhys laughed. “I’m guessing he’ll be more pissed about the fact that someone was sneaking around your offices.”
Gabe took a slug of his beer. “It’s a good wake-up call. We’ve probably been more lax about security than we should. Besides the occasional meth house and cattle rustler, Nugget feels like Mayberry.”
“We get a fair share of crime, don’t kid yourself.” Rhys asked for a bowl of pub mix and swallowed a handful. “Dinner.”
Gabe picked through the bowl, snagging a couple of nuts. “Yep, dinner.”
* * * *
On the other side of town, Drew loaded the car to make the long drive to the Bay Area.
“We almost forgot your suit jacket.” Kristy held it folded over her arm as she locked the front door.
He’d persuaded her to stay longer and to ride home with him. While he’d spent the day with Harper, she’d holed up in the office working on her brief, popping out occasionally for a snack or drink. It had almost felt normal. Almost. But there were subtle ways in which he could feel them growing more distant. The way she bristled every time he touched her, the way she sat on the big reclining chair instead of next to him on the couch, and the way she retreated into herself. With the exception of dinner Saturday night, they’d hardly spoken all weekend.
Of course, he’d spent most of the day with Harper, listening to her chatter on endlessly the way thirteen-year-olds did, leaving no space for anyone else to get a word in edgewise. Slowly but surely, she was adapting to her new home, her new life, to him and to Emily. But even still, his daughter was as fragile as glass, trying to make sense of the loss of the people who’d stolen and loved her and a new beginning with her real parents who were no longer together. It was a lot for an adult to handle, let alone an adolescent.
“You ready to go?”
Kristy threw his jacket in the back seat and got up front. “Yep. Hopefully we won’t hit all the ski traffic on the way down.”
For as cold as it had been, they hadn’t gotten that much snow. But on a Sunday evening there was bound to be plenty of cars on the road. Lots of folks returning home from a weekend in the mountains.
“Keep your fingers crossed,” he said, and started the engine.
“What’s this about Harper wanting to ride?”
Harper had complained that Emily and Clay wouldn’t let her have a lesson from the woman who’d brought her home the other day after her spill from Ginger. Raylene was her name. Drew was surprised that Kristy had overheard the conversation, and even more surprised that she’d raised the topic. Of late, she’d become reticent when it came to Harper, afraid of overstepping her bounds. Drew wished she would play more of a role but hadn’t brought it up, not wanting to rock an already wobbly boat.
“This Raylene woman, who is apparently quite accomplished with horses, offered to help Harper. I don’t know all the details, but Emily and Clay have a problem with her.”
“A problem? What kind of problem?”
Drew chuckled. “Something about her screwing over one of their friends. It sounds like a lot of small-townPeyton Placecrap, nothing I wanted to get involved with. In the five-minute contact I had with her she seemed nice enough.”
“So it’s not like she’s got a criminal record?” Kristy turned up the heat.
The forecast said snow, and Drew wanted to get to the pass before the roads got icy.
“Nothing like that.” He reached across the console and threaded his fingers through hers. “She doesn’t live in Nugget anymore and was only here for the wedding. She’s leaving soon, so it’s probably best that Harper doesn’t get attached to her anyway.”
“And how does Harper know her in the first place?”
