Too Hot to Handle (16 page)

Oh, God. Merry ran a surreptitious hand through her hair just to reassure herself that she hadn’t worn any barrettes or ponytail holders. No. Her hair was just long and straight as usual. And she’d already checked for paint drops like she was looking for ticks after a camping trip.

Still… She stared down at her hands. Did paint traces show up under a blacklight like blood? There were no telltale smudges of black, but would she stand up to a good swabbing? What if they could test for latex paint the same way they tested for gunpowder residue? What if—?

Jeanine snapped her phone closed and walked back to the group with a frown. “The dispatcher said there’s a grassfire outside town and we should just take pictures and file a report.”

“Oh, thank God,” Merry gasped.

Five pairs of eyes looked straight at her.

“I mean, I’m glad we can report this without having to pull them away from the fire. Good news. Boys in blue, saving lives.” She was in full-on flop sweat now. “Okay! I’ll take the photos! In HD, of course.”

The group backed away while Merry snapped away with her phone. She took a few pictures of the ground around the sign, then about a dozen of the sign itself, then two from the other side of the fence, just to be sure she looked enthusiastic.

“All right!” She dusted off her hands and waited for them to figure out the meeting schedule. But apparently they’d been having a totally different discussion.

“Who knows a reporter with the paper? I bet we can get someone out here this afternoon.”

What the hell? She’d only stepped away from them for a few minutes.

“Whoa, whoa! A reporter? I don’t think that’s a good idea at all.”

Jeanine crossed her arms. “We need to make clear that we won’t put up with this. If that little ingrate thinks he can—”

“We don’t know who did this. It could’ve been anyone. And if you start throwing accusations around, the board could be sued! This guy has already proven he’s litigious, right? Bad idea. We could lose everything.”

“She’s got a good point,” Levi said. Harry grunted in agreement.

The women did not agree. Kristen swept her manicured hands in a wide sweep. “So we’re supposed to just put up with this? I can hardly sleep at night! This is awful!”

Apparently Kristen Bishop hadn’t faced very many scary situations in her life. A broken mailbox and vague sign wouldn’t have even registered on Merry’s radar as a kid. Still, she felt terrible about her distress.

“I have an idea,” she said, trying to sound calm. “Maybe we should fight vinegar with honey. If that’s a thing people say. Do people say that? Anyway.” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Calling a reporter is a great idea, but instead of focusing on the negative, maybe we could get someone to do a whole write-up about Providence. About the trust. About what Gideon Bishop was trying to do and what this community meant to the area.”

“Hmm,” Levi responded, rocking back on his heels.

“Public opinion,” she pressed. “I’m not saying we don’t mention the troubles we’ve had with the lawsuit, but the best thing we can do for the case is create goodwill, don’t you think? Get the town on our side.”

“But what about the sign?” Kristen asked. “What about the mailbox?”

“Listen, if the town is on our side, I bet no one would dare to try anything else.”

Harry nodded. “It’s not a bad idea.”

Jeanine looked doubtful, but she held her tongue, and with Jeanine, that was nearly enthusiastic agreement.

“This is all so awful,” Kristen said again, defaulting to her martyr role. Merry could hardly resent it, though. She’d helped to create it.

Levi clapped his hands together. “Well, this is clearly an emergency situation. We’ll email you the meeting details when we have them, Merry. Ladies, let’s get you back in the car and out of this sun.”

They all turned away, murmuring to each other about the horror of it all. She was almost in the clear when Levi turned back. “I’d better take the sign as evidence.”

“Oh, I can do it. I’ll take it in and send them the pictures, too.”

“No, that’s too upsetting for a young woman like yourself.” She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d offered smelling salts at that point, but she couldn’t take offense. Not when she was trying to keep a low profile. So instead of objecting, she watched Mr. Cannon pry the sign off the fence post and tuck it under his arm. “See?” He gestured toward the post. “Good as new. If you want to take a few days off, feel free. At the very least, you should probably work from home until this dies down.”

“Oh, maybe. We’ll see. Thank you, Mr. Cannon.”

She watched him toss the sign in the trunk and wished she could snatch it back.

Despite the problem of kidnapped evidence, Merry breathed a huge sigh of relief as the car rolled away. Then she coughed up some gravel dust and told herself not to feel proud. She’d done something awful. Terrible. She’d perpetuated a con.

But she had her meeting.

“All’s fair in love and war,” she muttered to herself. And ghost towns, apparently.

Or she’d just done the worst thing of her life and she’d regret it later. She’d find out soon enough.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“
O
H
,
PLEASE
,”
N
ATE
H
ENDRICKS
said as they walked down the block toward the Stud Farm. “That chase scene sucked it, big time.”

Shane rolled his eyes. “I don’t think it was written to stand up to the analysis of actual cops. Come on, when that train flew over the road? That was awesome.”

“It was pretty damn awesome,” Walker agreed.

Shane tried not to shoot the guy a glare. When Cole had suggested catching a movie on Saturday afternoon, he’d invited both Shane and Jenny’s new boyfriend, Nate. But on their way out of the apartment building, they’d run into Walker, and Cole had invited him, as well.

The guy was fine. Shane had known him for a few years, and he seemed decent enough. Except for the fact that he’d flirted with Merry. And she’d flirted back.

Shane bit back a growl. He’d sat on the far side of their group at the theater, three seats away from Walker.

But there was no reason for jealousy. Flirtation meant nothing after what he and Merry had done. She’d flirted with Walker, yes, but she hadn’t had sex with him.
That
she’d saved for Shane.

So it didn’t matter. But he was still happy when Walker said a quick goodbye and jogged up the steps of the Stud Farm. Nate said goodbye as well, and Shane and Cole dropped into the two ancient metal chairs that sat beside the front steps.

“So when are you planning to build the house?” Cole asked.

Shane had told him that he’d inherited land from his grandfather and planned to build on it, but he hadn’t said more than that. “Everything’s still caught up in probate, but hopefully this fall.”

“That’ll be great for you. Are you still renting storage space for your carpentry stuff?”

“Yeah. Not to mention boarding my horse. It might take me a couple of years to get it built, but it’ll get there. How’s life as a ranch owner?”

Cole smiled with the satisfaction of a man whose life was falling perfectly into place. Shane wasn’t sure how much of that satisfaction could be credited to the ranch. “I can’t complain. Took a damn long time, but I’m finally just where I want to be. Don’t sweat a couple of years. It took me a dozen.”

“Yeah, but you’re an old man now. Hardly able to enjoy life at all.”

There was no mistaking Cole’s grin this time. He definitely wasn’t thinking about the ranch. And hell, if Shane could have that kind of happiness every night, he’d be smiling, too. Hell, one night of it and he already found his gaze going a little hazy at the memory.

“Still no word from your brother?” Cole asked.

“No. Nothing.” He and Cole had been acquaintances in high school and friends later. Cole knew part of the story. Hell, everyone who’d lived in Jackson then knew that Shane’s dad had disappeared. It had been a much smaller town.

“What do you think he’s up to?”

“Hell, I have no idea. He was really into motorcycles. Maybe he’s working in a shop. Maybe he’s been cruising around the country this whole time. Maybe he’s dead.”

“Fuck, man. He’s not dead. You would’ve heard something.”

“Yeah,” Shane said, but he didn’t believe that. Anything could’ve happened to Alex in fifteen years. If he’d fallen into drugs and died on the streets, no one would’ve bothered tracking down his long-lost family.

No, Alex was gone. Maybe not dead, but just as out of reach as their father had been for all these years. It was just Shane and a mother who couldn’t get out of her own head long enough to live a life.

Whatever pleasure he’d had with Merry last night, whatever joy he found in her presence, he couldn’t have more than that. Maybe he’d never leave Jackson, maybe he’d never run, but just staying in one place was hardly a commitment. Hell, even when his dad had been here, he’d had a girlfriend. Dorothy Heyer, otherwise known as Mrs. Greg Heyer. There’d been rumors about them for months, about all the time Shane’s dad had spent with the young woman married to a rich old rancher. It had been an open secret confirmed by their disappearance together.

And Shane’s grandfather hadn’t been any better. His first wife had died in a car accident, but not before she’d walked out on Gideon and his cheating ways. Jeanine had lasted much longer, but only because she’d turned a blind eye, ignoring his philandering until he’d finally kicked her out for “the love of his life,” Kristen.

Shane’s own history didn’t inspire confidence, either. He’d never been in love. He’d never even been close. Hell, he could barely stand to be around his own mother anymore. No, despite the temptation to make it something more with Merry, he was destined for a solitary life. He’d build his house out in the middle of nowhere. He’d have a place to work. A shop. A barn and pasture for horses. That was all he needed. It was all he could handle. A wife and kids would be nothing but a long-term investment in disappointment and hurt. It would only be that much worse if he fell for a nice girl like Merry.

He and Cole sat under the blue sky, wrapped up in what must be very different thoughts. Cole was a man who would settle down. His biggest challenge would be talking Grace into it, but Shane had a feeling he’d succeed. Grace was damned prickly and tough to deal with, but she’d gentled a little in the past few months.

As if to refute his very thoughts, Grace exploded out the front door, the red tips of her hair flying as she looked back and forth. When her eyes locked on Cole, she bounded down the stairs. “I need a ride!”

“Okay. Where?”

“Merry had some trouble out at the ghost town and I’ve been trying to call her for two hours but the call won’t go through. I’m worried.”

Shane shot to his feet before Cole could stand. “What? What kind of trouble?”

“Vandalism, I think,” Grace said in a distracted tone. “Someone posted an antitourism sign or something. I’m sure it’s no big deal, and her phone goes out a lot, but I’d like to check on her.”

“I’ll do it,” Shane volunteered.

Grace narrowed her eyes at him.

“Look, I go out there every day. I’m familiar with the place and where she might be working if she’s not in her office.”

Cole nodded. “Good. Call us when you get there. If you’re okay with that, Grace?”

She watched him for a long moment, but then she nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Shane.”

He would’ve felt triumphant about her softening toward him if he hadn’t known that he didn’t deserve it. After all, she was worried that he was going to use her friend and walk away. He might not be using Merry, but he was lying to her, and there was no doubt he’d walk away at some point.

But none of that mattered as he got into his truck and headed toward Providence. He tried her on his cell and the call went straight to voice mail. Maybe she’d just forgotten to charge it. Maybe she’d gotten excited about some new ridiculous story and lost track of everything else.

But what about that sign? Shane shifted and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, trying to push some of the tension out. He’d have thought nothing of it, except for that weird accusation Jeanine Bishop had thrown at him. Was he being set up?

It wasn’t beyond possibility. After all, two million dollars was at stake here. There wouldn’t be any proof he’d done it, because he hadn’t, but maybe suspicion would be all it took. If they could paint him as the bad guy in a town this small, his case would have less of a chance.

More importantly, he knew he hadn’t threatened the Providence operation, so who had?

Shane pushed the truck faster, risking a hefty ticket if he got caught. Merry still wasn’t answering her phone. And she couldn’t be much more alone than she was out there.

Even aside from what had happened between them last night, he couldn’t stand the thought of Merry being in any danger. She was just so…unprotected. It wasn’t just the fact that she was alone in a deserted town, but in the rest of her life, as well. It was as if she’d somehow grown up with no shell. No armor.

He wasn’t sure how that could be true for a girl who’d grown up poor with no father around, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she needed protecting. Maybe that was only because he knew he was hurting her himself.

Yeah. That felt about right. He was worried for her, because he should be. Because he knew he was going to hurt her.

“Fuck,” he cursed, slamming a hand against the steering wheel.

How the hell had he let this happen? Why couldn’t he control himself around her? She was so harmless and nice; it should’ve been easy to treat her as nothing more than a friend. But somehow she’d snuck inside and become something dangerous.

Not that resisting her would’ve absolved him. Even if they’d stayed just friends, he’d lied to her. Used her trust to get something he wanted. And shit, it wasn’t even worth it. What had he learned aside from the board’s tactics? He could’ve gleaned those from afar, and his lawyer had barely been interested.

He was going to have to stop coming out here. He’d check on her, be sure she was fine and then he’d tell her he didn’t have time to keep working on the saloon. Too little too late, but the best he could do at this point.