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The next morning Amanda came downstairs wearing jeans and a shirt he hadn’t seen before, one of the new items she must have picked up in town. Its forest green color highlighted her blonde hair, making him want to touch her.
He’d slept in the living room again, but at least the air mattress made it more comfortable. Someday he’d get back into a real bed. Amanda’s bed, hopefully. He could be patient, though.
They hadn’t been together again since they’d climbed up the Ridge. Ever since he’d questioned her about her past, Amanda kept him at a distance. They spent time together. They kissed.
Nothing more.
He promised himself he’d find a way to heat things up between them again. Meanwhile, there was plenty of work to do.
“Ready to tackle number nineteen?” he asked her when they walked to the town hall for breakfast. “If you help me this morning before I go to the mill, tonight I’ll get on with renovating your house.”
“Sounds like the perfect day.”
“Really?” He took her hand and squeezed it. “You’re not missing your corporate job?”
Amanda snorted. “Not at all. Like I said, I kind of fell into that line of work. My sister is the one who had a real calling. I keep waiting for something to draw me in the way dancing consumes her, but nothing ever has so far.” She grew pensive. “When I was in college, I wanted to go into finance.”
“You still could.”
“I’m not sure I’m interested in that anymore.” She made a face. “You know what’s funny? When I was a girl, I wanted to be a librarian. Guess dreams really do come true.”
“Why didn’t you study that in college?”
“It never occurred to me that mere mortals could become librarians.”
Carter laughed. “Mere mortals can become anything.”
“I know that now. I’m a librarian, head chef and postmistress. What am I going to be next? Mayor?”
Not a bad idea, Carter thought. They were going to need a mayor. He didn’t say anything out loud, though. He’d made enough unilateral moves; he’d better consult the others before he gave her another job.
“Anyway,” Amanda said. “I like the variety of my days here. I like how active I am.”
“I like that, too.” He wasn’t missing Navy life half as much as he’d thought he might.
“I’m enjoying the company,” she added.
Carter focused on Amanda. That was good news. He stopped and wrapped her in his arms, cupped her chin and kissed her. “I’m enjoying it quite a bit myself,” he said. He wanted to feel all of her again and wanted her to feel him, too. He didn’t think he was going to be able to keep his distance much longer.
“Amanda,” he growled into the nape of her neck when he finished kissing her mouth, jawline and behind her ear.
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m trying to keep my head on straight, but it’s hard around you.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” He took her hand again, his whole body buzzing with need as they finished their trek to the town hall.
Inside, surrounded by his brothers, he tried to focus on his breakfast, their conversation—anything except the woman he wanted to take to bed.
“Megan is going to come talk to us this afternoon,” he announced when they’d all settled in. “We can show her some of the houses so when they’re ready, she’ll have the listings all set to go. Amanda and I will work on number nineteen this morning, then I’ll head to the mill.”
“It’s not supposed to rain for the rest of the week,” Nate said. “As we strip the houses, we can pile junk in the Circle, so it’ll be easy to load and take to the dump.”
As they discussed the details of the work, Carter saw Amanda frown. She pulled out her phone, tapped it a few times, read a message and got up from the table.
“I’ve got to make a call,” she said. She crossed the cafeteria, went out through the double doors and into the foyer.
Carter watched her go. He hadn’t seen her communicate with anyone before this. Who’d gotten in touch just now? A man or a woman?
Someone important enough to make her jump to call him or her back.
“You know anything about Amanda yet?” Lincoln asked in a low voice.
“Yeah, I’ve been wondering that, too,” Nate said. “She had only one suitcase when she came. What’s her story?”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “She said she’s trying to decide what to do with her life.” His grasp of her history sounded thin to his own ears. Who had she left behind who might call her?
“Sounds like she could leave at any time,” Gage said.
“She’s staying,” Carter asserted.
“Did she tell you that?” Hudson asked.
“She told all of us, remember? She said she likes it here. She likes me.”
Lincoln rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man. I wouldn’t get too attached if I were you. Seems like a setup. She could go back where she came from at any time.”
“It’s not like that.” Carter got up and gathered his dishes. For all he knew, it was. She’d acknowledged she was keeping secrets. “I’ve got it under control.”
But as he stalked off to the kitchen, he had to admit that wasn’t entirely true.
“Where are you?” Melissa asked, picking up on the first ring when Amanda called her.
“Hello to you, too.” Amanda bit back a rush of annoyance as she stepped outside the town hall. Why was Melissa always so rude? She wasn’t that way when they were kids. Back then she’d had an outsized personality and loved to perform for anyone who would watch. Most of the time Amanda was her main audience, but their parents would indulge her sometimes, clapping as Melissa twirled and leaped around the living room even before she started formal lessons.
She was so much fun back then, even if she had to be the center of attention. Amanda had been content to play second fiddle most of the time. They’d shared a bedroom and whispered half the night, Melissa telling her wild stories about little girls who ran away to star on Broadway. It was only later, when Buck started coming around, taking up all their father’s time, that Melissa’s behavior began to go downhill.
“I’m serious, Amanda. Why did I have to email you twice to get an answer? Why is your phone number different all of a sudden? You’ve had that old one for years.”
Typical, Amanda thought. It was like pulling teeth to get Melissa to answer a few texts every six months, but when Melissa wanted to talk, Amanda had better be accessible right away.
“I… lost my phone. I had to get a new one.”
“You couldn’t transfer your number?”
She hadn’t wanted to—not when Buck could possibly trace her through it. “Fresh start. Fewer sales calls that way.” She wasn’t sure how much to tell her sister—or how much Melissa would pay attention if she did. Her sister had a way of cutting her off midsentence and changing the subject if she focused on herself for too long. A couple of times, Amanda had tried to talk to her about how lonely she was in California. How she didn’t know what she wanted from life. Melissa had told her to get laid.
“You didn’t think to let me know? Or did you not want me to have access to you?”
That was rich. “I was busy.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. “Where are you again?” Melissa asked.
Amanda wished she felt safe enough to give her that information. “Traveling. Won’t be home for a few weeks.” Or ever, probably. Already, her life in California seemed like a distant—and not too pleasant—dream.
“Since when do you travel? What the hell is going on, Amanda? Tell me where you are!”
Still trying to have her own way in everything. It had been a long time since Amanda felt the need to jump at Melissa’s commands. “I’m in… Montana, okay?” It was a big state, after all. Telling her that much was safe enough.
“Montana? Where in Montana?”
Amanda heard the irritation in Melissa’s voice, a reminder of just how little patience her sister had for her these days. She was restless and driven, a dancer who actually made a living from her passion in France, where she’d lived these past few years.
“I can’t talk about this on the phone,” Amanda said. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe Buck Bronson couldn’t possibly hack her phone, but she couldn’t shake the feeling he could find her no matter where she went. How far did his reach extend?
“How else can we talk? It’s not like we share a bedroom anymore. Come on, Amanda. Where in Montana are you? Billings? Bozeman? Glacier National Park?”
She sounded like she was reading from a list. Had she looked up a map of the state online? Probably, Amanda decided as she suppressed a snort of laughter. Her sister loved drama, but she hated mysteries. It must be killing her that she couldn’t pinpoint Amanda’s location exactly.
“No, not any of those.” She paced away from the town hall’s entrance.
“Missoula, Great Falls, Big Sky?”
“Melissa.” She was always like this. Silence for months on end and then she had to know everything.
“Whitefish? Butte? Chance Creek?”
Amanda sucked in a breath.
“Chance Creek? Is that the place?”
“Melissa—Dad went back to his old profession.” Amanda shut her eyes. She hadn’t meant to say that. Melissa got pissed when she criticized their father.
Another long pause. “Okay.”
“I mean it. He was staying with me. He stole a painting.” She checked to make sure she was still alone.
Melissa didn’t answer for a moment. “Amanda, if you’re in trouble, I can help,” she finally said. “Where are you exactly?”
Her unexpected offer put Amanda off balance. She’d expected a very different reaction. “I’m… safe. Laying low. Stay in Europe, and for god’s sake don’t get mixed up in this.” She thought of the painting in the outbuilding by the old mine. No more putting things off. She had to get it out of here soon.
“How did you get mixed up in it? Why didn’t you tell me Dad was staying with you?”
She didn’t have an answer for that. Amanda supposed she’d wanted him to herself for once.
“I… would have told you, whenever we talked.”
“So you hid the fact that Dad was staying at your place, and now you’re claiming he stole a painting.”
“He did steal it. Afternoon in Sun and Shadow. It was part of a traveling exhibit.”
“He ran off with it?”
“Not exactly,” Amanda admitted. “He had to leave it behind. Buck was after him—he found out about it somehow.”
“So where is it now?”
Amanda swallowed. “I… don’t know.” She wasn’t good at lying to her sister. “Buck Bronson came to my apartment. I barely got out of there before he broke in, Melissa. I had to run for my life!” That would throw her off the scent.
The silence drew out so long this time, Amanda wondered if her sister had hung up. Finally, Melissa sighed. “That must have been scary,” she said grudgingly.
Amanda relaxed. “It was.”
“But you grabbed the painting on your way out, didn’t you?”
Amanda clutched her phone and turned to scan her surroundings, terrified someone could somehow hear her sister’s words. Her heart banged in her chest.
“Come on, Amanda. There’s no way you’d leave a masterpiece lying around for Buck to find. You took it with you, I’m sure you did. You’re probably looking at it right now.”
“No, I’m not.” At least that wasn’t a lie.
“What are you going to do with it? Sell it? Keep all that money for yourself?”
“I’m going to give it back.” How could her sister think she’d do otherwise?
“Give it back? What are you going to do—call the police? You’ll be the one to go to jail this time.”
“Not if I do it right.”
“Where are you?” Melissa demanded. “You’re in too deep to handle this on your own, you know.”
Amanda shook her head even though her sister couldn’t see her. She wasn’t going to tell Melissa where she was, and she needed to get off the phone. Now.
She hung up.
“Everything okay?” Carter met Amanda as she came back into the town hall and headed her off so they could talk in private near the mailboxes.
“It’s fine.” She wouldn’t meet his gaze, though, and Carter was pretty sure whatever had happened, it was not fine. Who had she called? A family member?
The boyfriend she claimed not to have?
“Sometimes it helps to talk about it.”
“Are you my psychiatrist now?”
Uh oh. Amanda was mad. “I hope I’m your friend.” Nate, Lincoln and Gage walked past on their way out the front doors. Amanda moved toward the cafeteria.
“I didn’t finish my meal,” she told him.
“No rush.” He trailed her inside, where they sat down again at the table. Everything except Amanda’s plate had already been cleared. Hudson was in the kitchen taking care of cleaning up.
He decided not to take her anger personally. Someone had gotten in touch. Amanda had called him or her back. Whoever it was had made her upset.
Or worried.
“Are you in trouble?” He decided to cut to the chase.
She’d been about to take a sip of juice, but she set the glass on the table and finally looked at him. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Because you came here without much luggage. You won’t answer any questions about your past, and you’re being mighty secretive right now.” A thought occurred to him. “You’re not married, are you?”
“Married? No.” She laughed, although it wasn’t a happy sound. “I’ve got problems, I’ll admit that, but I’m not running from a marriage. I told you I’m single.”
“Yeah, that’s what you told me.” It was time to put his cards on the table. If she didn’t trust him, this relationship was going nowhere.
She lifted her glass again. Took a sip. Buying time, Carter thought. “You don’t believe me?” she asked.
“Should I?”
She set her glass down. Looked down at the remains of her food. Pushed her plate away.
“I’m single,” she said finally. “My problem is with my family, not some boyfriend. It’s my father—and my sister. She’s the one who got in touch today.”
Carter sat back. Now they were getting somewhere.
“What did they do?”
She thought about that. “Three months ago, I made the mistake of letting my dad back into my life. I thought he’d changed. Turned out he hasn’t. I know I’m better off without him, as painful as that is to admit, but my sister can’t see that. She still wants to idolize him, and I’m afraid she’s going to get hurt.”
“In what way?” She was still being awfully cagey.
“My dad pretends he loves us, but when it comes right down to it, the only thing he cares about is money. Melissa doesn’t understand that.”
She stood up, picked up her plate and glass.
“Amanda.”
“Carter, I don’t want to talk about it.” She took her dishes to the kitchen, where he could hear her chatting with Hudson.
Carter supposed he deserved that. He’d pushed her, and she’d pushed back.
“Do you mind if I skip out on helping you this morning?” she asked when she came out again. “I’m going to get to the library. Books never let you down.”
“I’m sorry your father did.” Disappointment filled him, but he told himself it was his own damn fault she didn’t want his company.
“I am, too,” she said. She softened a little. “I love him, despite everything. I wish he cared about that. I wish my sister knew I care about her, too.”
“I care about you. You know that, right?”
When Amanda looked away, he stifled a curse. Hell, he’d really lost ground by pressing her for more information at exactly the wrong time. His instructors in counterterrorism would have had a lot to say about his lack of technique. You had to know when to press a source and when to back off. People’s lives could depend on it.
Amanda wasn’t a source, though. She was someone he cared for deeply, and it was his heart he was risking when he questioned her.
“I want to believe that,” she said. “I really do. The problem is, right now I’m having a hard time believing anything.”
She shouldn’t have said that to Carter, Amanda thought when she was alone in the library. So far he’d been a man of his word. If he said he cared about her, she ought to believe him. Everything he’d done to this point backed up his claim. She’d lashed out at him simply because talking to Melissa made her ashamed—of herself and her whole family. What right did she have to fall for a man when she was hiding stolen property—on his land? She could get Carter and his brothers in trouble if she didn’t get rid of the painting.
As soon as she was safely ensconced in the library, hiding among the stacks with a clear sightline through the shelves to the door so no one could sneak up on her, she pulled out her phone, struggled to get on the internet and looked up local LA news sites.
There still wasn’t any mention of Afternoon in Sunlight and Shadow. Amanda wasted precious minutes picturing how her life would be different if her father had turned his artistic prowess into a safer line of work. If he couldn’t pay his bills from selling his paintings, couldn’t he have turned to art restoration instead of forgery?
If he had, she would never have come to Elliott Ridge, she reminded herself.
She looked up the Chance Creek sheriff’s department next, but she knew calling them wasn’t an option. For one thing, the sheriff might simply arrest her under suspicion of committing the theft herself. For another, he would definitely go after her father—and this time her dad wouldn’t get off with a slap on the wrist. He’d committed the crime, not Buck. He would be the one to pay for it.
While Amanda knew her father probably should suffer the consequences of his actions, there was a third reason she couldn’t call the sheriff, and this one had to do with her own safety.
When she was young and Buck came for Sunday dinners at her family’s home, he’d made it clear he had friends in law enforcement all over the country. He bragged that he could call them up for a favor any old time, despite being kicked off the force. She had no idea if Buck would have a contact in the Chance Creek sheriff’s department, but she told herself she had to assume he did.
Out of curiosity, she brought up the FBI’s website next and straightened when she discovered its tip line.
As she read on, she realized it wouldn’t be a good idea to use it, even though she doubted a man like Buck would have any connections to a federal agency. When the FBI deemed a tip to be credible, they usually got local law enforcement involved, which meant they’d call the Chance Creek sheriff.
She was back to square one.
Amanda hesitated, then started over again. There had to be a way to return the painting.
One that didn’t end up with her in jail.