was keeping an eye on me. Craig Stone says she’s just a painter, though.”
Gage nodded. “I heard. Just a painter. I can understand why you’d be uneasy after that hiker, though. We’re all uneasy.”
Buddy relaxed even more. “So you guys are worried?”
“Not exactly. Not yet. But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t check around from time to time, not until we’re sure it was just an accident. There’s a lot of woods out there for a bad guy to hide.”
“True.”
Gage looked around. “You’re building a new cabin. Something wrong with yours?”
“I need some place for friends to stay.”
Gage cracked a smile. “I understand that. Sometimes I wish I had a guesthouse.”
“Yeah.”
“Not that I can do much in town. Sometimes I wish I had a spread like yours, Buddy.”
Buddy swelled with pride. “We can do a lot up here, Sheriff. Let me show you the garden.”
It never occurred to Buddy that by walking Gage around to show off a few things he might be revealing more than he thought.
Cap would have something to say about that later, but right now, Buddy just felt good. And proud.
Chapter 4
S ky returned to the hill overlooking the valley to paint. Her mood had changed dramatically, though, and she didn’t quite see anything the same way. The colors didn’t sparkle the same for her, and even the changing play of light didn’t capture her interest.
She lay back on her tarp, staring up at the deep blue sky overhead, and realized that her desire to recenter herself with this trip had been interrupted. First by that Buddy guy, then by her dissociation the day before, and now by the memory of the way she had responded when Craig brushed her hand and squeezed her shoulder. Simple, meaningless touches, but they’d hit her like an emotional explosion.
Too much had hit her. As an artist, she knew how easy it was to get blown out of the water sometimes. To lose touch with that creative spark inside her. She knew just as well that sometimes the only way to handle it was to make herself pick up a brush and smear color on canvas, even if it would never amount to anything.
But she didn’t reach for her brushes or paints. Instead she lay there trying to sort her way through all that had happened, trying to figure out what had triggered her and why the hell she wanted to be attracted to a man, any man, so soon after her breakup.
Rebound? Maybe. Looking for some reassurance that she was an attractive woman and a good lover? Most likely. But the rest of it?
She closed her eyes, thinking over yesterday morning, trying to put herself back in the courthouse square and get in touch with what she had been feeling. It was the blank windows and closed doors, she decided. Craig had been right about it.
Her awareness of those doors and windows should have alerted her to the fact that she was slipping in time. She hadn’t consciously lived with that fear in a long time. In Iraq it had been different. Covered windows and closed doors had become menacing to her. The need to know what was behind them had often been nerve-racking. She knew exactly what Craig had meant when he said that for a while he couldn’t stand closed doors even in his own apartment.
It was an odd thing when she thought about it rationally. For most of her life, a closed door had been a protective thing that kept the world at bay. So much better with a lock, to keep threats out, not that she’d lived in fear. Still, a closed door had been comforting, a bulwark.
Then Iraq. Walking and driving down streets where she couldn’t see what was happening in those secret interiors had taught her a whole new way of thinking and feeling. A way she had believed she was past.
Apparently not.
Sighing, she sat up and looked around the valley. Good sight lines. Even Buddy’s approach had been shocking only because she hadn’t been expecting it. Now that she was on higher alert, or REDCON Three as the military called it, she wouldn’t be caught
Gage nodded. “I heard. Just a painter. I can understand why you’d be uneasy after that hiker, though. We’re all uneasy.”
Buddy relaxed even more. “So you guys are worried?”
“Not exactly. Not yet. But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t check around from time to time, not until we’re sure it was just an accident. There’s a lot of woods out there for a bad guy to hide.”
“True.”
Gage looked around. “You’re building a new cabin. Something wrong with yours?”
“I need some place for friends to stay.”
Gage cracked a smile. “I understand that. Sometimes I wish I had a guesthouse.”
“Yeah.”
“Not that I can do much in town. Sometimes I wish I had a spread like yours, Buddy.”
Buddy swelled with pride. “We can do a lot up here, Sheriff. Let me show you the garden.”
It never occurred to Buddy that by walking Gage around to show off a few things he might be revealing more than he thought.
Cap would have something to say about that later, but right now, Buddy just felt good. And proud.
Chapter 4
S ky returned to the hill overlooking the valley to paint. Her mood had changed dramatically, though, and she didn’t quite see anything the same way. The colors didn’t sparkle the same for her, and even the changing play of light didn’t capture her interest.
She lay back on her tarp, staring up at the deep blue sky overhead, and realized that her desire to recenter herself with this trip had been interrupted. First by that Buddy guy, then by her dissociation the day before, and now by the memory of the way she had responded when Craig brushed her hand and squeezed her shoulder. Simple, meaningless touches, but they’d hit her like an emotional explosion.
Too much had hit her. As an artist, she knew how easy it was to get blown out of the water sometimes. To lose touch with that creative spark inside her. She knew just as well that sometimes the only way to handle it was to make herself pick up a brush and smear color on canvas, even if it would never amount to anything.
But she didn’t reach for her brushes or paints. Instead she lay there trying to sort her way through all that had happened, trying to figure out what had triggered her and why the hell she wanted to be attracted to a man, any man, so soon after her breakup.
Rebound? Maybe. Looking for some reassurance that she was an attractive woman and a good lover? Most likely. But the rest of it?
She closed her eyes, thinking over yesterday morning, trying to put herself back in the courthouse square and get in touch with what she had been feeling. It was the blank windows and closed doors, she decided. Craig had been right about it.
Her awareness of those doors and windows should have alerted her to the fact that she was slipping in time. She hadn’t consciously lived with that fear in a long time. In Iraq it had been different. Covered windows and closed doors had become menacing to her. The need to know what was behind them had often been nerve-racking. She knew exactly what Craig had meant when he said that for a while he couldn’t stand closed doors even in his own apartment.
It was an odd thing when she thought about it rationally. For most of her life, a closed door had been a protective thing that kept the world at bay. So much better with a lock, to keep threats out, not that she’d lived in fear. Still, a closed door had been comforting, a bulwark.
Then Iraq. Walking and driving down streets where she couldn’t see what was happening in those secret interiors had taught her a whole new way of thinking and feeling. A way she had believed she was past.
Apparently not.
Sighing, she sat up and looked around the valley. Good sight lines. Even Buddy’s approach had been shocking only because she hadn’t been expecting it. Now that she was on higher alert, or REDCON Three as the military called it, she wouldn’t be caught
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