8. Shep
8
SHEP
I slammed my truck’s door and stepped out into the garage just as the door slid closed. Twisting my neck, I felt the telltale pop and release of tension. Not enough. We were juggling more jobs than we should, and adding a personal project to the slate meant we were past our limits. But I couldn’t resist the old farmhouse; it was too much of a hidden gem.
Lifting my phone, I used the app to unlock the door to my house. Most people wouldn’t add a lock to the door between the garage and the home, but I wasn’t most people.
I’d grown up in a house that had taken in kids from the roughest of circumstances. I knew that bad things could find you wherever you lived and thus prepared accordingly. I just used tech to do it.
The moment the door opened, a soft beeping sounded. As I plugged in the alarm code, I heard the AC kick on. Summers in Sparrow Falls had a large swing. The nights could get down to the forties, but the days could reach one hundred. I left the thermostat at seventy-eight while I was gone, but the moment my electronic locks turned, it was programmed to drop to seventy-four.
Lights flicked on automatically as I walked through the modern Craftsman. It had more room than I needed, with four bedrooms and five baths, but that just meant a higher resale value when it went on the market next week. As I opened the fridge, my phone dinged with an incoming text.
Mara
You didn’t tell me the Juniper Lane house was getting featured in The Tribune. This is amazing! We should celebrate!
I frowned at my screen. If you read between the lines, the text was equal parts quiet accusation, congratulations, and gentle suggestion for us to spend time together. It had annoyance sweeping through me. And fast on its heels…guilt.
As I stared at the device, the screen shifted—an incoming video call. Relief swept through me at having an excuse not to answer Mara’s text. I hit accept, and Cope’s face filled the screen, his penthouse apartment in downtown Seattle as the backdrop.
“Dude,” he clipped. “Are you avoiding me?”
I grabbed a beer from the fridge and let the door shut as I straightened. “Some of us actually work for a living, dipshit.”
“It might be offseason, but my ass was in the gym at six this morning.”
Opening one of my drawers, I fumbled for a bottle opener. “Do you want a gold star? I could make you a little chart. I was up at five-thirty and just got home. What have you been doing all afternoon?”
Cope scowled into the camera in answer.
I barked out a laugh. “Sitting on your ass playing Xbox?”
His silence was my answer.
“That’s what I thought. Now, what’s so important that you called me”—I checked the count on my notifications—“eight times? Or were you just bored?” I knew it hadn’t been an emergency. If anything was truly urgent, Cope would’ve followed the call with a text saying he needed to talk. But my younger brother had been hovering lately, sending me into avoidance mode .
Cope shifted on his couch. “I wanted to hear about your haunted house.”
“It’s not haunted.”
Cope arched a brow. “That shit needs to be exorcised before you start work. I’d call a priest ASAP. Maybe get some holy water. I bet you can order it on Amazon these days.”
My lips twitched. “I think I’ll be good.”
“You gonna stay in the Craftsman while you rehab?”
I shook my head. “Jennie’s putting it on the market next week.”
Cope let out a low whistle. “Where are you gonna stay?”
“Not sure yet. Probably a rental.” Given how busy things had been, I hadn’t had time to look for one, but I could put Jennie on the case.
“Stay at my place. There’s plenty of room, and I won’t be home for a few weeks.”
I took a long pull from my beer, letting the cool liquid wash away the day. “You know me. I need my own space.”
While Cope’s house on its large pond outside of town was massive, he’d be interfering the moment he got back. And with our youngest sister, Arden, living in a guesthouse on the property, it was a little too much family togetherness for me.
It wasn’t that I didn’t love them or want to spend time with them. It was that I needed to know I had space and time to let everything go. To not have to be… on .
Cope frowned. The expression looked foreign on his face. “You always did like your weird little alone time.”
I snorted. Cope and Fallon were the Colsons’ biological children, along with Jacob, before he passed. So, we’d been together since the two of them were born. Cope knew all about my need to retreat. When we were growing up, I’d go to the treehouse or the creek—anywhere I could just breathe.
“Maybe I’m into meditation or just wanted to get away from your nosy ass.” At four years younger than my thirty-four, Cope had been my constant tagalong.
“Hey, you asked me for playoff tickets. Now who’s the tagalong? ”
I grinned. “Fair enough. But what can I say? It’s always a joy to watch you get your ass kicked.”
Cope glared at me through the phone. “When I get home, you and I are hitting that new rink. I’ll show you an ass-kicking.”
There’d be no contest. Cope would wipe the ice with me. He was a beast. As easygoing as he was off the ice, he turned into another person when his skates hit it. It made me wonder what my brother was keeping so bottled up.
“Fair enough.” I glanced at my watch. “I gotta go. I need to stop at Arden’s before I run to family dinner.”
“Okay, but quick. How are you doing?”
My gut twisted at how Cope’s voice lost all its humor, and serious concern filled it. “I’m good. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He sent me a pointed look. “Don’t pull the bull with me. I know you better than that.”
My back teeth ground together. “Rho’s good. She’s healing. Anson says the nightmares are better, too. So, if she’s good? I’m good.”
Cope was quiet for a long moment, taking me in. That study called me a liar, but he didn’t push. This time. “Okay. You need to talk shit out, just call.”
“Sure.” I wouldn’t. I’d bury it. Or I’d take it out on whatever house I was working on. But that was how I dealt. My dad had understood that. When I was growing up, he was the one who’d realized I needed to do something with my hands to work through whatever I was dealing with.
He’d put me to work fixing fences on the ranch, then helping him build a new shed or fix up the barn. Through him, I’d discovered my love for both creating something from nothing and bringing back things that had been neglected and forgotten. We’d lost him years ago, but I still felt the ache of missing him every time I started something new.
“Tell everyone hey for me,” Cope said, breaking into my thoughts.
“Will do. ”
“Later, Bob the Builder,” Cope clipped, hitting end on the call before I could say anything back.
I just shook my head and went in search of a hot shower. It wasn’t long before I was clean, changed, and headed toward Cope’s place. As I pulled up to the gate and rolled down my window, I heard the whir of a camera moving. The lens zeroed in on my face as I plugged in the code.
Security was necessary for Cope, thanks to his hockey-star status. We didn’t get a lot of lookie-loos out this far, but there was the occasional superfan. And if security wasn’t in place, they’d drive right up to his front door.
But the safety measures shielded Arden, too. Not that she couldn’t take care of her own damn self.
The moment the gates opened, I eased off the brake. You couldn’t see any of the structures on the property from here, just a paved road flanked by aspen trees. It curved for a handful of minutes, crossing over a creek I knew fed into the large pond the main house butted up against. Finally, the road opened to show the majestic landscape.
The house itself was a blend of deep, reddish wood, stone, and glass. You couldn’t see in the massive windows, but I knew from being in on the design that you could damn well see out. One side faced Castle Rock with its golden faces, and the other had a floor-to-ceiling view of the Monarch Mountains with the pond right below them. I had no idea how Cope could leave it empty for most of the year.
I kept driving past the main house and over another bridge to a smaller guest cottage. The architecture mirrored the main structure, but this one had a massive workshop behind it—because Arden needed huge for her projects. That and a barn in the distance that housed her two beloved horses.
I pulled in next to a pickup that made me scowl. She’d had the same one since high school. Now, it was rusted in spots, and the bed was scratched to hell from her carting around materials and finished masterpieces. She needed something new. And given how much she got paid for her art, she could damn well afford it.
Turning off the engine, I slid out of my truck and headed for her workshop door. There was no question where she would be, even if the strains of hard rock hadn’t given her away. Sometimes, I wondered if Arden ever went back to her house or if she just slept on the couch in here for a couple of hours at a time.
I reached out and tested the doorknob. Unlocked. My scowl deepened as I opened the door to deafening sounds I wasn’t sure could be classified as music.
I took one step, and an enormous Cane Corso stepped into my path. At least the mastiff was something because Arden wasn’t the slightest bit aware of my presence.
“ Beruhigen ,” I told the dog, and his quivering muscles relaxed at the German command. I reached out and scratched behind his ears. “How’s it hanging, Brutus?”
He leaned into me, relishing the affection.
The music flicked off a second later, but Arden didn’t turn around from the drafting desk, her hand still flying across a giant sheet of paper. “What’s up, Shep?”
My lips twitched. At least she hadn’t turned off the security system alerts. “I’m here to get you for dinner.”
“Can’t. In the middle of something.”
I glanced at the giant heap of metal in the center of the room. It didn’t look like anything discernible yet, but it would. My gaze returned to her as I moved in that direction. “You’re always in the middle of something. But if you don’t show tonight, both Mom and Lolli will come over here. And you know Mom will start cleaning, organizing, and asking why there’s no food in your fridge.”
Arden’s head flew up, sending her hair flying as piercing, gray-violet eyes locked with mine. “I went two weeks ago.”
“Three,” I informed her.
She cursed, dropping her pencil to the table’s little ledge.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s family dinner, not torture.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Arden muttered as she ran a hand through her hair, revealing gray smudges along the side of her pinky finger and palm. “I was in a flow.”
“When aren’t you in a flow?” I challenged .
She stuck out her tongue at me but pushed off the stool. “All right. Just let me grab my gym bag. I’m supposed to spar with Kye later.”
Arden crossed the room to the worn leather couch with smudged paint in different places. A black gym bag lay on one side. I knew it was stuffed full of her jiu-jitsu gear. As she hoisted it over her shoulder, Brutus looked up at me balefully.
“We gonna take the beast?” I asked.
Arden nodded. “ Komm ,” she called to Brutus, and he let out a happy bark.
She couldn’t take him everywhere, but I knew she was always more comfortable when she could. But I would be, too, given that Brutus had come to Arden after two years of highly intensive training.
She sent me an annoyed look. “Let’s go.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “So demanding.”
Arden just rolled her eyes and headed for my truck, helping Brutus jump into the back seat. She was quiet like usual as we drove, staring out the window at the passing landscape. I knew she was likely pulling inspiration for some new creation. But when Arden finally spoke, I realized I’d been wrong.
“Are you doing okay?” she asked, her raspy voice dipping lower.
Hell. If Arden was worried about me, I needed to do a better job of burying that shit.
“Yeah. I’m good. Just itching to get started on the new restoration project.” None of that was a lie. I was okay. Living, breathing. I didn’t carry the scars Rhodes did.
Arden turned toward me, her gray-violet eyes piercing. “I know what it’s like to live with monsters. Ones you can recognize, and ones you can’t. It changes you.”
Everything in me spiraled in a vicious squeeze. I did not want her to go back to that time, even in some misguided attempt to help me. “Arden?—”
“None of it was your fault,” she said, cutting me off.
I snapped my mouth closed .
Arden turned back to the window. “One day, you’ll believe that. But if you need a reminder, I’m always here.”
I tried to swallow the burn in my throat, but I couldn’t get it to move. Grace. That was the gift she was giving me. I just wasn’t sure I deserved it.