Kiersten woke early, so nauseated she could barely breathe. The stench of burned brush permeated everything she owned. Cleve’s arms were reluctant to let her go when she slipped away for a shower. Thank God the guys had been with her last night. Or what would have happened? She swallowed the need to retch as she turned on the water. Couldn’t keep thinking like that. But what could she do? A good two weeks’ worth of pasture had gone up in smoke. She’d have to either sell her lambs sooner in the fall and take lower weights for them all, or sell a few ewes and lambs together right away, so there was enough to go around for the remaining stock. Either choice would decrease her lamb check in September. Grandpa was right. Just when you thought you’d caught up, some disaster hit and you were still sinking.
Dawn broke as she sat at her kitchen table opening her mail. Bills, bills. Why did she bother to open them? She couldn’t pay them anyway. Junk mail, fan mail from the county assessor. An odd business letter with no return address. Inside, it read:
Dear Ms. Day,
Must see you. Please email me at below address. Do not contact me at my place of business.
Sincerely,
LeeDavid Calhoun
Why’d that silly young attorney want to see her? Was he asking her out, or did he have something else up his sleeve? This, she had to know. She tiptoed over to her computer, powered it up and sent him a message.
LeeDavid,
You are very mysterious, but I’m intrigued. Name the time and place, but know that I go nowhere alone. After arson on my business and now my home, as well as an attempt on my life (by your client, I suspect) I am under constant protection.
You can let Mr. Gunther know that the next time he shows up at my home threatening myself or those I love, I WILL shoot. With no regrets.
K. Day
He responded minutes later, before she’d finished reading her other messages.
Ms. Day,
I will be in Rifle tomorrow. It’s imperative that we do not meet in public. I’ve been following the incidents you mentioned in the newspaper. Your life could be in jeopardy. You must agree not to disclose the source of the information I provide. I will be at the address I mailed the letter to, at 5:00 PM tomorrow.
LeeDavid
“Who’s LeeDavid?”
She jumped, but managed not to yelp at Clay.
“Um. He’s an attorney from the firm Trayce Gunther hired. In Denver.”
“Denver, as in where Hitler came from?” His brows raised. Taking a seat on her file cabinet, he crossed an ankle over a knee. He wore his jeans and nothing else.
“Well, yeah. This guy seemed appalled by the stunt his firm pulled at Trayce’s trial, though.” Clay. The very image of Cleve, but different. Same body hair, same build. Different posture. Defensive. Less macho, maybe. Less poised to fight for what he wanted. “Sorry about interrupting last night.”
“Oh. I think a wildfire would take priority. Over the other fire,” he answered with a grin.
Her face burned. Jesus, why should she be embarrassed over what he’d said? She’d already known what he and Nate had been up to. Anyway, she’d brought it up.
Get over it. She looked back up at Clay and found him eyeing her suspiciously.
“You won’t hurt him?” she pleaded. “He falls so hard.”
“I know.” He glared at her like she was evil and chewed his lower lip.
Her eyes burned. Damn the emotions lately. Clay clearly knew more than he was saying. And he hated her for it.
“Oh, hell. Please don’t cry. Cleve’ll kick my ass if he wakes up and finds out I’ve hurt your feelings.”
Too late. She had a bottomless wellspring of tears these days.
“I’m sorry. It’s the hormones.” She wiped a tear off her cheek. What did he have against her? She didn’t really want to go there. If she was coming between him and Nate, surely he’d tell her. “Clay, if you care about him, don’t let anything get in the way. He deserves that, and I think you do too.”
Clay’s face softened like she’d seen Cleve’s do so many times. His eyebrows went back up where they belonged and the corners of his mouth turned up a fraction. He put his hand over hers and something warm, more than the usual transfer of body heat, passed between them.
“Tell me,” she implored. Something troubled him down deep. Something associated with her.
Clay’s eyes narrowed again, then he nodded and took a quick look behind him. “He, um, he talks about you. In his sleep.”
“Oh. Because he’s worried.” Please, please let it be that.
“No. Not that kind of talk.”
Oh. Jesus. “Oh. Um.” She could think of nothing more to say. “I’m sorry. We’ve never, I mean...”
“I know. But I think he wanted to. Wants to.”
“No. You’re wrong, Clay.” She lowered her voice before she went on. “He’s afraid to believe he has what he wants. He’d rather want what he believes he can’t have. I know, it’s fucked up.” Been there, done that. “Nate knows I’m a commitment-phobe, so he could never have me. It’s easy to know you want what you can’t have. No disappointments that way.”
Clay looked only marginally reassured and opened his mouth to speak, but Nate staggered out of the second bedroom.
“What secrets are you two whispering about out here?” Nate asked, still fastening the top button of his Levi’s.
Her email was suddenly riveting, when faced with the intimacy of Nate hugging Clay from behind and nuzzling his neck.
“If y’all drank as much beer as I did last night, you’d be sleepin still, instead of wakin me up from a perfectly good sleep,” Cleve grumbled from the bedroom.
“Maybe if you could hold your alcohol better, you wouldn’t be such a crank-ass the mornin after,” Clay called back.
Cleve appeared in the doorway, palms rubbing red eyes and fingers cradling his head, wearing only the towel he’d dried off with after his shower the night before.
Nate raised his brows suggestively to her and she grinned back.
Cleve blinked his eyes to clear them, then gazed her way.
“You oughtta be sleepin still, Rocky. You got big dark circles under your eyes. Come on, let’s get some food in ya. Baby needs to eat.”
She followed him into the kitchen.
He pulled her close, kissed her neck and fondled her breasts.
“They’re growin,” he whispered happily.
“Yeah, but please be gentle.”