Page 13 of Black Ice
“Dad!” She pressed a hand to her heart. “What are you doing?”
“The alarm system woke me up with that open-door message.”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve thought of that.” She could’ve temporarily reset that feature from the panel in the barn.
“No matter. I only came out because the first time it went off someone was fiddling with the back door.”
“What?” She had the security system app on her phone and hadn’t seen anything about a break-in attempt. “When?” Pushing to her feet, she hurried through the barn to the door that backed onto the woods surrounding their property.
“A few hours ago,” he said trailing after her. “You were at the casino so I called Sheriff Russell. He came out and looked around, decided it must’ve been bored kids.”
They must’ve been bored to come out this way to poke at a barn full of out of season camping gear, tools, and brochures. “Was anything taken?” She did a quick visual scan of the gear before checking that the door closed and locked properly. Nothing appeared to be out of place.
“Not that I could see.” Dale tipped his head toward her car. “What are you doing with the chains?”
“Just making sure I can get to work tomorrow.” She turned off the bright overhead lights. She’d promised Wyatt she wouldn’t go back, but it wasn’t that simple. “I have a mid-day shift.”
Dale muttered something most likely unflattering about the casino industry that she ignored. “You just got home.” He turned toward the opening to watch the snow. “Coming down like this, chains won’t be enough if the plows keep forgetting we live up this way.”
“True.” His obvious delight with that observation irked her. They needed her paychecks, whether or not he’d ever admit it. “That’s why I’m headed back in. Tonight.” She’d just decided. “The hotel has rooms for this kind of situation and I won’t have to miss a shift.”
Her dad stewed, his hands tight on the shotgun. For a split-second she worried for her car. “This is the off-season,” he barked. “You can’t go twenty-four-seven all year long and be healthy.”
She gaped at him. This was a brand new argument and the novelty was almost refreshing. “The bills don’t stop for the season, Dad.”
“It was never a problem before.” The words came out so hard he might as well be chewing gravel.
Before her mom died. “I know.” Sympathy pulsed through Evelyn. Her dad was tough and spry, but at the core he was lonely without his wife. “Hop in and I’ll give you a ride back to the house.”
“I’m fine,” he muttered. “Go on back up there if you have to. You’re so sure you know what’s best.”
She ignored the jab, so tired of fighting over piddly stuff when they needed to hash out serious issues. “Get in the car, Dad.” He wasn’t even wearing gloves. “I’m not taking any chances with you.”
She started the car for him and cranked the heater so he could be warm while she closed up the barn. With the security system reset, she climbed behind the wheel.
“I could’ve walked.”
“I know. It’s even uphill the whole way.”
He snorted. “You’re sassy tonight.”
“Punchy after a long shift is more like it.”
“Would we really be in that much financial trouble if you quit?” he asked.
So he did listen to her once in a while. She pulled to a stop at the front porch, put the car in Park, but she kept the engine running. “Yes. This time of year it’s that close.” She held up her hand, finger and thumb barely separated. “We have interested investors and a couple of experimental events that could turn into something lucrative, but?—”
“We can’t count money we don’t have yet,” he finished.
“That’s right.” She covered his hand, gave him a gentle squeeze. “You taught me that.”
“Your mother did.”
“Maybe take half the credit then,” she teased. “I love you, Dad. I love this business. Our legacy. I can save it.”
He pulled away, a frown puckering his bushy eyebrows. “You shouldn’t have to. It’s my job to provide, not yours.”
Despite the late hour, she couldn’t leave him while he was so gloomy. “You’ve been an excellent provider my whole life.”
