Homestead

Chapter Twenty-one

Too agitated to contemplate sleep after Ella drove off, Tess walked down to the pasture behind the barn to check the horses. They didn’t need checking, but she needed company. If she went inside now, she’d start thinking about Clay. And the kiss. She really didn’t want to think about the kiss. The last person she’d kissed had been a teacher she’d met at the county fair in the arts and crafts building. They’d started talking about the dioramas Beth’s fifth graders had made and how creative the kids were, making cornfields out of toothpicks and pastures from little bits of indoor-outdoor carpet. The dinner date that followed had been pleasant. The good-night kiss was pleasant too. Warm and tender and safe.

Clay’s kiss had been anything but tender and safe. Clay’s kiss was volcanic—a rush of molten desire immolating her down to the bone. Thinking about the low rough growl that had escaped Clay’s throat when Clay had pressed her to the tree made her hot and wet again, right now. Her thighs trembled, and a terrible urgency pulsed deep inside. She wanted Clay inside her right this minute. Not someone safe, not someone gentle and tender. Not anyone but Clay.

“God,” Tess murmured, leaning against the wide metal pasture gate. Would she ever be free? Would she ever want to be? The answers had to be yes or she would lose her mind. She couldn’t fight her heart and her body too.

“Hey, guys,” she whispered, wishing she could ride away into the moonlit fields and emerge in a world where love made sense and promises were never broken.

The big gelding ambled over, followed by the others. She only kept four, two fat minis who weren’t good for much of anything except a smile, and two mustangs she rode whenever she had the chance. The horses stayed long enough for a quick scratch and to confirm she had no treats for them before wandering away to graze in the stubbly grass, tails flicking at flies, graceful, muscular bodies ethereal in the moonlight. One of the barn cats twined around her legs, and she leaned over to pet him. The air lay close on her bare arms, still warm, even going on midnight. Overhead, the moon raced through a blue-black sky, bright and mocking in its perfect solitude.

The sound of an engine rumbling grew louder, and she turned, frowning. No one came out this late at night unless there was a problem. She hurried back toward the house as the familiar SUV pulled up by the porch again. Ella got out, closed the door, and started toward her.

“Did you forget something?” Tess called.

“I’d like you to go in the house, Tess.” Ella’s tone was flat and impersonal, steely with command. Not quite an order, but not a request.

Tess didn’t move. “What’s wrong?”

“Possibly nothing.” Ella walked around to the rear of the SUV, leaned in, and came out with a large flashlight. “I’m going up on the hill to look around. It would just be best if you waited inside.”

“Why?”

“Someone’s broken into the job site. Clay wants to be sure everything is all right over here.”

“Broken in?” Dread coiled in Tess’s stomach. “Where’s Clay?”

“She’s at the site.”

“Alone?”

“Kelly’s there. She just called me.” Ella flicked on the light, shone it around the yard and barn. A skunk skittered away into the underbrush by the pasture. Otherwise they were alone.

“Shouldn’t you go over there? Why would anyone be interested in my place?”

“If it’s industrial sabotage, they may be trying to destroy the equipment here. I’ll be back as soon as I check things out.”

Tess shook her head. “We should go over to Hansen’s. Clay might need your help.”

“She wants you to stay here.”

Tess nearly choked on her anger. “I’m sorry. Clay wants me to stay here? I don’t answer to Clay. She’s not in charge of my life.”

“No, but I answer to her, and she’s right.” Ella took Tess’s arm but didn’t try to move her. “There’s no point in you being in danger.”

“Oh, but it’s all right if she is?” Tess had trouble keeping her voice down. The horses whinnied softly and shuffled closer. She took a breath and shook off the image of Clay in the road, nearly killed. Panic would not help anyone, but fear clawed at her throat. “Should I remind you that she’s barely recovered from the last time someone tried to kill her?”

“Believe me, I remember. But ignoring a possible threat here won’t help her.” Ella pointed to the house. “And I can’t make sure everything’s all right here until you’re secured. Please go inside.”

“If that’s the only way I can get you to go help Clay, fine. But hurry.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Tess headed for the house, and by the time she reached the porch, Ella was gone.

Clay approached the compound along the access road, staying in the shadows of the pines as much as she could. The compound was eerily silent. No lights shone in the bunkhouses or by the big machinery shed on the far side of the camp. The huge yard that would soon be filled with trucks and equipment was dark. They weren’t running at full capacity yet and hadn’t put up the halogens that would light the space like day once they started running 24/7.

Clay’s trailer was the closest to the access road, and a prime target. The big satellite dish on the roof was practically a blinking sign saying expensive stuff inside. Chances were this was nothing more than just malicious mischief or at most, burglary—they’d had their share of trespassers at other sites hoping to find some loose tools lying around. Even had a backhoe go missing until it was found abandoned after it got bogged down in a swamp a quarter mile from the yard. The rigs hadn’t been assembled yet, and destroying them would take explosives. Vandals would have to be serious and sophisticated to go after them.

Keeping her flashlight on low beam and pointed at the ground, she picked her way over the uneven terrain, doing her best not to kick up rocks or snap branches in the tangle of scrub at the edge of the woods. Once, she thought she heard the murmur of voices, cut her flashlight, and stopped, trying to pinpoint the sound. At night out here, everything was amplified. A car passing on the next ridge sounded like it was around the bend. Maybe some of the crew were still awake in one of the bunkhouses. Or maybe more than one intruder lurked inside the trailer. When she heard nothing more, she resumed her cautious approach until she got within twenty feet and could see more clearly. The trailer door had been jimmied and hung askew. The windows were dark. She stood still again and listened. Nothing. Even the crickets were quiet.

Sweat trickled down her face and she swiped at it with her sleeve. Her breathing sounded so loud in her ears she wondered if it wasn’t audible inside the trailer. If anyone was inside, they were doing the same thing she was—waiting and listening. After a minute, she decided to make the first move—taking the aggressive approach usually worked for her. Edging up to the trailer, she slipped along the side until she was under one of the back windows. She didn’t want to go through the door and surprise someone ransacking the place, especially with no backup. Rising slowly, she gripped the narrow window ledge and hoisted herself up until she could get a look inside. Her sore ribs protested but she ignored the insistent ache. Enough moonlight filtered through the windows to light the twelve-by-thirty space. Although her lateral vision was obscured, she could see most of the trailer, and it looked empty. She eased down to the ground, caught her breath, and worked her way around to the door.

She was ten feet away from the open doorway when Kelly whispered, “What’s the situation?”

Clay managed not to gasp. All the same, the hair on the back of her neck stood up and a shudder ran down her spine. “What are you, part ninja?”

“Used to be SWAT.”

“Nice to know.” Clay leaned close. “Place looks empty. I don’t think anyone’s around.”

“I’ll clear this trailer, then we’ll check the rest of the buildings.”

“I’m coming in with you.”

“Take my backup piece. I know you know how to shoot.” Kelly leaned over, and when she straightened, she had a Beretta Bobcat in her hand. She slid the compact .25 caliber to Clay. “Don’t shoot unless you have to. Metal trailer—ricochet.”

“Don’t worry.” Clay kept the weapon close to her thigh, pointing down. “Your call.”

“I’ll go left, you take right.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Just the way Clay liked it—short and sweet.

Tess paced on the front porch, as close as she could bring herself to going inside. No way could she just sit and wait. The night sounded like every other night—an incredible silence punctuated by the throaty rumble of bullfrogs, the shriek of opossums, and the lonely yip of a coyote searching for its pack. Somewhere, the mournful sound of cows lowing echoed the simmering ache in her chest. She stared at the hill behind the barn until her eyes stung. Ella was up there somewhere, alone. What did it take for someone to face danger so calmly, so matter-of-factly? Tess’s heart raced, and she wasn’t even in any danger.

Every now and then she caught a glimpse of what might have been a flashlight beam cleaving the dark for an instant, or maybe it was only starlight reflecting off the window of one of Clay’s machines. Clay’s equipment on her land. Clay was everywhere in her life, when weeks ago she had only been a memory Tess struggled not to revisit. The scent of her still clung to her skin. The imprint of Clay’s hand on her hip still tingled. She couldn’t breathe without tasting her on her lips. All she wanted in that moment was to see her. Just to know she was all right. Then the terrible pressure in her chest would ease, and her head would stop spinning.

Wrapping her arms around herself, chilled despite the cloying heat, Tess strained to see beyond her fields to the tree line on the ridge bordering the Hansen property. Stark fingers stretched into the sky, spirits rising from the earth, clawing to freedom. Over that ridge, Clay’s compound had sprung up like a tent city of nomads in the desert, seemingly overnight. Clay was there, possibly in danger. Clay had always been the perfect picture of danger to her, but she’d never been frightened by her. She’d represented everything Tess had never experienced—independence, rebellion, daring adventure. She still did, only now, Clay seemed less the master of her fate than she had when they were young. She seemed beset from every angle by forces that sought to hurt her.

And now, Tess was one of those who had hurt her. She’d felt Clay flinch when her words had struck like blows. And now that she’d said what she’d wanted to say for so long, she felt no better for it. Whatever had happened that long-ago summer, they had both been part of the play, both of them knowing somewhere in the back of their minds that the dream was only a dream. Clay had broken the fragile fantasy first, but maybe in a few weeks’ time, Tess would have been the one to end the perfect idyll. When the summer drew to an end and she’d been forced to choose between riding off with Clay into some unknown future or returning to the farm and the land she knew and loved, maybe she would have been the one to break hearts. She’d held Clay responsible for her pain and disappointment all this time because she needed someone to blame for the loss of innocent dreams.

A streak of light cut through the darkness and she caught her breath. Ella was coming back. Tess hurried down the dirt drive to meet her.

“Did you find anything?”

“No,” Ella said. “Everything up there looks all right.”

“Can we go to Hansen’s now?”

“Clay expressly wanted you safe. Whatever’s going on over there, it’s no place for—”

“What do you mean, Clay wanted me safe? She said that?”

“Tess,” Ella said gently, “do you have to ask?”

Tess jolted. How can you ask that? Could even Ella see what she had refused to admit? She narrowed her eyes. “Wait a minute. Kelly just came up this week. But you were here alone until Clay got hurt. Now Kelly is with Clay and you’re…you’re assigned to me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but that has nothing—”

“Clay’s idea?”

“I agreed with her, Tess. We don’t know what’s going on, and you were right there when Clay was injured. So far, no damaged vehicle has turned up, and no witnesses have come forward. No one is admitting to seeing anything at all. Except you.”

“So Clay decided I needed protection, and that’s what you’ve been doing? Is that what today was about?”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

Tess was so angry she knew she wasn’t thinking straight. “I’m going to Hansen’s. Come with me or not. I don’t care.”

She marched toward her truck, jumped in, and pulled the keys from the cup holder where she always left them. As she started the engine, Ella climbed in the passenger side and said, “If you’re going to do this, follow my instructions. We don’t want to go roaring in there and surprise some hothead who’s going to start shooting at Clay and Kelly—or us.”

“Fine. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“And Tess—about the rest of it—”

“I’d rather you not say anything right now,” Tess said. “I’ve already told one person to go to hell tonight. That’s enough.”

The trailer was empty. Clay switched on the propane-powered light and surveyed the chaos. File cabinets lay on their sides, their drawers pulled open and dumped upside down. The computer was trashed, and papers, blueprints, and survey maps were shredded and strewn about the room.

“We better check the rest of the camp,” Clay said grimly.

“We ought to call the sheriff.”

“Let’s see if our friends are still around first. If they are, I’d like to talk to them alone.”

Kelly grimaced. “We could be asking for trouble.”

“No,” Clay said. “That’s what they’re doing.” She handed Kelly back her Beretta and shoved the broken door the rest of the way open.

Tess jumped back with a startled gasp. Ella stood beside her, a stoic expression on her face.

“Damn it, Tess,” Clay snarled, “what are you doing here?”

“Not listening to you, apparently.”

“Go home.”

Ella said, “Is the rest of the site clear?”

“No,” Clay said, staring at Tess. She looked angry and defiant and so fucking sexy. She sighed. “Fine. Stay. But at least wait inside.”

“You’ll be careful?”

“Yeah,” Clay said, although where Tess was concerned, she doubted that was possible.