Chapter 11

The tinny sound of Lean On Me, along with Cleve mumbling about the radio, woke Kiersten. She crawled over him and pulled her back-lit cellphone from her dresser. One of his hands made an exploration down her backbone as she answered, “Nate. What time is it?”

The hand abruptly moved off her, then returned, firmly clasping her hip.

“It’s three a.m. Your shop burned.”

“What? Shop?” She shook her head. Had to wake up.

Cleve’s hand remained on her.

“The optical shop, the office, it’s all gone, Kie.” In the background, lots of voices and loud engines. “Somebody torched your practice.”

Trying to make sense, she repeated, “Um. Torched?”

Cleve had flipped on a light switch and was staring at her.

“Some guy drove by and saw the front window broken and flames in the optical shop. By the time the fire department got here, the lab was lit. With all the chemicals, it went up fast.”

“Um, I need to come down?” So much to process. Broken window?

“Yeah, the cops and fire department have to talk to you. Win’s in my truck. They called his house because they didn’t have your cell number.”

“Jesus.” Rubbing her eyes, she muttered, “Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She pressed End and stared at the phone for half a second.

“I’ll drive you,” said Cleve in a solemn tone.

“The hell you will. I don’t need Grandpa knowing you were at my house at three in the morning. You shouldn’t have been, anyway.”

“I’m goin, whether I drive you or follow.” He was already pulling on his pants.

“Cle— Howell, why do you have to complicate my life? Grandpa already thinks I’m a slut because I’ve been dating Nate for two years and haven’t made him marry me yet.”

“Tell him you called me and asked for a ride.” His shirt was on. He handed her the velour pants.

“Yeah, good one. My sworn enemy, and I ask for a ride in the middle of the night. Likely story.” She stepped into the pants and he picked up her shirt.

“Please wear somethin under this jacket.”

She plucked a bra out of her drawer and put it on.

“We’ll think of a story for your Granddad on the way.”

While zipping, she stepped into her shoes. Once she’d locked Oscar’s doggy door to keep him from following them or sniffing out a porcupine in the night, they were running for Cleve’s truck.

* * * *

Clear As Day Optometric appeared to be a dark heap of smelly, smoldering charred plastic and steel. Everything wooden was long gone.

Luckily, a concrete wall separated the lab, protecting the patient charts from the hottest parts of the blaze. The shelves of tightly packed charts had only been seared along the edges, then soaked by the firehoses.

She was soon involved in a heated discussion with the fire investigator over when she could move the files to a safe location to protect patient confidentiality.

One CPU in the basement breakroom seemed to be intact, so hopefully the data from the last day’s business would be retrievable.

The firemen and most of the cops had gone when the police chief, a tall, wide man, pulled her into a yellow-taped area in back of the building. On the concrete surrounding the picnic table where employees lunched on nice days, red spray-paint read, YOUR NOT WANTED HERE! LEAVE BITCH.

“Not the best grammar, and not great with punctuation.” The chief’s joke fell flat. “But I guess he got his sentiment across. He’d have left this message first.”

“He?”

“Between eighty-two and ninety percent of arsonists are male. Forty percent are under eighteen. Dr. Day, in light of your recent testimony in court, we could be dealing with skinheads, environmentalists, anti-gun fanatics, Trayce Gunther, a proponent of bigamy, hunting activists, a disgruntled patient, or a run-of-the-mill crazy.”

“Guess that narrows it right down.” Sounded like they wouldn’t be solving this crime soon. But that wasn’t her job. Her patients were. “When can I salvage my patient files and put them somewhere safe?”

“You should be worried about your own safety right now. If he was willing to set a fire just to get a hate message noticed, there’s no telling what he could do.”

“Look, Chief, I’ve got responsibilities. My staff is on the way, along with the doctor who leases the practice. If patient files get lost, it’s my ass. We know the fire started on the retail side. No reason for the files to be examined. When my patients are taken care of, I’ll worry about who did this.” She waved her hand in the general direction of the painted concrete, preferring to not look at it again.

The chief sighed and scratched his thinning hair. “Just let me know where you take ’em in case they have to be reviewed. We’ll need a list of appointments and a copy of transactions for the last month, at least.”

In front of the building, Nate and Cleve stood with their hands in their pockets, the sun rising behind them. The fire investigator finished his report and joined the police chief in his cruiser.

She approached Nate’s Xterra, where Grandpa was snoozing. As if sensing her, he woke up and opened his door. She leaned in for a hug, letting him comfort her. His cigarette smell reminded her that she needed to get him to the doctor soon, but the Old Spice on his neck made her feel small and safe.

“Sorry, Peanut,” he said. “They know how it started?”

“They think it was in the retail side.” No point in upsetting him by telling him a soda bottle full of gasoline had followed an ordinary river rock through the window. “Grandpa, I’m gonna be working here a long time. I’ll ask Cleve to take you home while Nate and I find a place for the temporary office and get stuff moved.”

“What’s Howell’s ranch hand doin here anyway?”

She brushed stray hairs away from her face. “I had it all wrong. Cleve is Howell. That Chaz is the ranch manager. My truck battery was dead, so I called Cleve to drive me down.”

“Women. You leave the radio on, or the lights this time?”

“Lights.” Such crap, pretending she was dumb enough to drain her own car battery, but it was a good excuse for Cleve’s presence. “I’ll go get Cleve, okay? Thanks for coming down.” She needed to get Grandpa away before he found out about the arson and the nasty message. Her lips brushed his leathery cheek, then she shut the door and walked away.

Cleve’s hands were shoved deep in his pockets when she reached him.

“Can I ask you a favor?”

His raised eyebrows told her to go on.

“Would you get my Grandpa home? He doesn’t need to see any more of this. I’m not sure how long Nate and I will be working here.” The concern on Cleve’s face bothered her; she didn’t need him caring what kind of trouble she was in. She didn’t need him caring at all. “Oh, and could you let Oscar out for me? Um, thanks. For the...ride.”

One corner of his mouth lifted a little too much to be subtle, then he left her standing with Nate on the sidewalk.

“The ride?” Nate taunted.

“Not the time, or the place, Cook. Got any ideas where we can set up a temporary office?”

The office staff straggled in, looking haggard from having to report at such an early hour. Both the chief and the fire investigator had informed her the employees would all be questioned and asked for alibis in the same manner she had. Thank God she had Cleve for an alibi, though she dreaded it becoming public knowledge.

Nate called someone he knew about a small empty office space. It would do in a pinch. Eye exams would go on hold until the exam equipment could be replaced. Her insurance should cover most of the expenses, including short-term salaries for the employees. She’d be out the lease money the other doctor paid her, though.

How the hell would she pay the insane property taxes with no income? Another installment was due in less than a month.

Dinner time was long past when she collapsed on her bed in Grandpa’s house. She stunk like smoke and melted plastic, but the patient files were safe. Law enforcement had the appointment schedules and ledgers they needed. Thanks to computer wizardry by her youngest optician, the files had all been recovered and the remaining computer terminal made fully functional. Neighboring businesses had helped out by lending office furniture for the temporary location.

Her insurance claim in the works, tomorrow she’d have to deal with the adjuster after he arrived from Denver.

Distraught patients would start trickling into the new office, wanting to pick up the glasses they’d left for repairs or new ones they’d ordered that week. It would be a disaster for weeks to come. Fortunately, the staff could handle most of it. For now, she wanted nothing more than sleep.

With a knock at the door, Grandpa wandered in. Arg. He’d want to feed her.

She turned over and sat up, pinning on the most energetic face she could muster.

“I got supper ready. Come and eat. Everything looks better on a full stomach,” he advised.

Her eyes rolled, but only after his back was turned.

She sat down, rubbing her fingers over the red-checked oilcloth cover Grandma had used for as long as she could remember. It looked like she’d better replace it for Grandpa. The edges were looking pretty rough.

“Before Nate finishes his shower, we should talk,” Grandpa said.

“What’s up?” He’d set her a glass of milk, which sounded pretty good. “You’re not feeling worse?”

“I think we should take CJ Howell’s offer on the Peak.”

“What?” She slammed down the milk. “No way.”

“I talked to him today and told him I might be interested. He said he’d go as high as one point seven.”

Cleve was going to pay for this. He’d sworn he wasn’t going after the Peak anymore, and yet here he was trying to tease Grandpa into selling.

Her fingers thrummed her ire on the table. “I can’t believe you’d be willing to sell out after all I’ve been through to keep that place.”

“We’d be winnin when it’s all said and done. That property ain’t worth more than a hundred and fifty thousand to anybody else in the world. The joke would be on Howell, if he’s willin to pay more than ten times what it’s worth.”

“It’s wrong, Grandpa. He can’t take what he wants just because his wallet is fatter.” The combination of exhaustion and betrayal made her emotional. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

“How you gonna make the property tax payment with no income?”

“I don’t know. But this is the last year those taxes will be so high, then they’ll go back down and we can manage easier. Maybe I can get a loan, and pay it off when I sell the lambs. Please don’t sell the Peak, okay?”

He shook his grizzled gray head. “Why does it matter so much? You could be comfortable if you invested the money. Why do you want this fight?”

“Please, just promise me. Please?”

Grandpa’s perplexed scowl accompanied his nod.

She relaxed. He’d keep his word. Too bad Cleve hadn’t.

* * * *

“Take me up there, Nate!”

He was tired and justifiably cranky at the idea of driving to the Peak after dinner, but she was determined to go home.

“I need to take care of the cats and the chickens and Cookie.”

“Cleve’ll take care of the animals for you.”

“I don’t want that double-crossing jerk near anything of mine, ever again.”

“Kie, maybe he was trying to help because of the fire. And Win told you himself that he brought it up, not Howell.”

“Don’t take his side, Nate. This isn’t the first time he’s lied to me to get at the property. It’s all about the land. Life is one giant game of Risk to the Howells. If it was legal to use an army, they’d be doing it.”

Nate expelled a weary sigh she guessed was only partially exaggerated. “Okay. Let me pack a bag.”

“Um, I’d really rather you come back here tonight. I need to be alone.” She didn’t want to be alone, but Nate was more important elsewhere. His glare spurred her to admit, “Someone should be with Grandpa. He’s worried.”

Nate didn’t know about the nasty message in back of the shop yet, and she hoped to keep it that way. She needed him with Grandpa, but he’d want to protect her if he found out.

“Besides, you have irrigating to do down here.” As she’d hoped it would, her boss voice convinced him. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve had a long day. When we get the sheep up to the Peak next week, you can take a few days off, okay?”

As Nate had predicted, her animals had all been cared for. Still, she felt better being in the house she was fighting so hard to keep.

She apologized again for making Nate drive up when he was so tired. He left with a kiss to her forehead and promised to lock the gate, but she locked her doors anyway before making a bee-line for her shower. Washing away the grime and stench reminded her how tired she was. When she’d dried off and slid on a sweatshirt and shorts, she climbed in bed, anxious to zonk out.

An insistent pounding on the front door and then the back prohibited her from sleeping.

“Rocky? Are you here? The gate’s locked again. Answer me if you’re here!”

Lord, he’d think somebody else had been there poking around if she didn’t answer.

Throwing open her bedroom window, she yelled around the corner, “I’m here, traitor. Go to hell, by the way.”

* * * *

When Cleve reached her window, Rocky slammed it shut, leaving him to peer in and yell, “What in tarnation? What now?”

“I’m done talking to you, Howell.” There was that tone again, where she spat his name like the dirtiest word she knew.

“You could at least tell me how I’ve offended you now. Aren’t we screwers anymore? Come on, sugar. Tell me about your day.”

Without warning, the window flew open. “It all makes sense now. You scheming bastard! While you were here distracting me, you paid somebody to burn down my practice so I’d be broke and Grandpa would agree to sell you the Peak. I should’ve guessed it before. No wonder you hung around all night, making sure I stayed here.”

“What are you accusin me of? Now I’m an arsonist? Lady, your moods swing more than a saloon door.”

“Shut up, Howell. I’ve got your number now.” The window slammed back down.

He beat on the glass. “Damn you, woman. I told you I don’t want your puny two hundred acres. Get it through your thick head!”

“Grandpa told me you offered him a million seven today,” she yelled.

“I did not!”

The window came back up. Her shotgun clicked as she cocked it. “You son of a bitch. Don’t you call my Grandpa a liar. If he says you offered it, then offer it you did.”

He stuck his hands in the air. After all, she was pointing her gun at him. “Ma’am, please. Your Granddad only talked about how long it would take to rebuild that office of yours the whole way to his house. I’m swearin on my Mama’s grave.”

“Your Mama’s not dead, jerk.”

“Give a fella a break. A crazy woman is aimin a shotgun at me, and I’m a little nervous.”

“Why would my Grandpa make up that story? Just to upset me?”

Something didn’t make sense. “He said he talked to me?”

Her pretty green eyes narrowed and she shook her head. “CJ Howell. He talked to CJ Howell. Shit. What’s your old man doing offering more money for this property?”

“Another feather in his cap. He thinks this ranch is inferior because we didn’t get your parcel. If he got it, he’d be right proud of himself.” Was it safe to lower his hands? “Peace?”

“No.” She lowered the gun. “No peace until you get your daddy to leave this property alone. Dammit. Go away, Cleve. I’m sorry, but just go away. Take your ice cream with you. We’re finished.” A few seconds later, her front door opened and she held out the half-empty carton. “You have room for it in your new fridge. I’ll see you around.”

“No, you won’t.” He grabbed her door instead of the ice cream, and pushed his way in. “You’re not sendin me packin because of what my Pop and your Granddad did today.” He backed her against the wall. “You’re not sendin me packin at all.”

Kissing her sent need stuttering through his body. She kissed back, but sagged against him.

“Just plain tuckered out, aren’t ya, Rocky?”

She nodded and he lifted her in his arms and carried her to bed, took the ice cream from her and put it in the freezer again. Then he returned to her bed, where he stripped to his shorts and curled around her.

“You break all the rules,” she complained. “You call me Rocky, and kiss me on the mouth, and sleep over. It’s no good to have a man who won’t obey me.”

“I can be good in other ways.”

“Yeah.”

He skimmed his fingers along her hairline.

“You do have magic fingers.”

“You’ve only seen the beginning, Rocky.”

“Cleve?”

He closed his eyes. She’d used his given name again. Finally. Thank the Lord.

“Grandpa wants to sell. It almost killed me when he told me that today.”

“Why does he wanta sell now?”

“I don’t have any income until the practice is operational again. The lease is void when there’s no equipment.”

“Wasn’t it insured?”

“The employees will have salaries, and the patients will get their glasses. The building and equipment will be replaced. But I wasn’t insured personally after I leased the practice. You won’t use this against me in the future?”

His gut reaction was to snap at her and ask why she wouldn’t trust him. But he knew why. “I won’t, honey. I swear it. You want a loan?”

“God, no.” She clung tighter to his hand. “I mean, I’ll work something out. I have some money banked. Enough to cover day to day expenses and Nate’s salary, and hire trucks to haul the sheep up.”

Her body tensed against his. Because she was worried. About money, something he’d never worried about in his life. There was always plenty on hand, and more available with only a quick request to Pop. This little bit of a thing had to be responsible for herself, her aging Granddad, and a ranch hand. If only he could to take the burden from her shoulders. But he had no idea how to go about it. If he thought she’d take it, he’d happily hand her the money as a gift. Wouldn’t be hard to shuffle things in his accounts so Pop wouldn’t know.

Since he couldn’t fix the trouble from the inside, he went to work on her outside, rubbing the tension from her shoulders.

When she slept, he lay awake next to her, wanting her in ways he’d never wanted another woman, for reasons he’d never felt before.