Chapter 4
Chapter Four
SOFIE
I’m changing Pippa’s diaper when two figures pass by the childcare center’s window. The busy drop-off period ended a half hour ago, so I glance up, expecting a stressed-out parent needing emergency childcare.
But it’s Stu Valentine, head of security at Finn River Ranch, walking with someone I don’t know.
Or do I?
My heart leaps into my throat.
What the hell?
My coworker, Ava, must hear my startled gasp because she looks up from the floor where she’s monitoring two toddlers playing.
Before I can move, Stu and the other person continue past.
“What’s wrong?” Ava asks.
I redo the snaps on Pippa’s onesie, the motion made awkward by the uncomfortable brace the doctor made me promise to wear. “Nothing.”
Ava glances at the window, then at me as I lift Pippa into my arms. “You’re white as a ghost.”
“Can you take her for me?” I ask.
“Sure.” She jumps up, arms outstretched. Pippa rewards her with a giant grin.
After a kiss on Pippa’s head, I leave her with Ava and slip into the hallway. The lush carpet beneath my feet swallows the tap of my sneakers. It’s quiet down here this time of day, especially with summer ending, so when a door creaks open somewhere out of sight, I know which way to follow.
But when I round the turn, the long hallway is empty. To my left is the rentals and repair shop. Miller is tinkering with a mountain bike on one of the repair stands in the work area. I don’t see Kai.
I poke my head into the shop. Rows of mountain bikes hang from hooks in the ceiling that, in a few months, will be replaced by skis. It always stinks in here but I resist the urge to wrinkle my nose. The guys insist it’s the carpet that never fully dries out after winter and the grease they use on the bikes, but it could be their chewing tobacco or their B.O. from playing hoops outside when rentals are slow. Probably both.
“What’s up?” Miller says as Kai rolls a bike in from the open back doors, his brow beaded with sweat. They’ve both been nice to me since the accident, but I’m sure they’ll be back to teasing me soon enough.
“Did Stu just come in with a guy?”
Miller glances at Kai, who is shrugging out of his pack. I wonder if he just snuck off for a loop on one of the trails. He always insists it’s to “test the equipment.”
“Nope.”
“I passed them,” Kai says, sliding his can of dip from his pocket and tapping it against his thigh to pack it. “Ducked into maintenance.”
“What’d the guy look like?”
Kai frowns. “Dunno. Dark hair. Tall but like, not that tall.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Thanks.”
“How’s Jesse?” Miller asks before I can push off the doorframe.
“Doing okay.” This is a major oversimplification, but if Miller senses this, he doesn’t let on.
I hurry down the hall and push through the double doors. Outside, the bright sun hurts my eyes. I try to soften my gaze by focusing on the pale pavement so I don’t get a headache—something the doctor said was normal after a minor head injury, but it’s annoying. The distant hum of the chair lift blends with birdsong, and the chatter from families lounging on the patio goes silent as I slip into the adjacent building. Stu’s door is closed as usual, but I hear voices behind it .
My gut curls tighter. Since the accident, I’ve wanted to find the person who pulled me and Jesse out of the lake. So has Dad. So have a lot of people.
But even with the footage from bystanders, the guy’s face isn’t clear, and once Jesse got handed off to the paramedics on the shore, he disappeared.
I didn’t tell the state trooper I’d seen the guy before. That I had just bought him breakfast at the diner in Sweetwater. Or that he’d already rescued me once. Because if I did, I’d have to explain what’s going on with Gabe, and that’s nobody’s business but mine.
Why would the security guy from the show be at Finn River Ranch with Stu?
Why is my heart thumping into my throat like I’ve just run to the top of Glory Basin?
I lift my fist to knock, then stop myself. It’s not like I have any business interrupting whatever’s going on inside Stu’s office. Even if I’m right and the guy is here.
A chair creaks and the door opens before I can scramble out of sight.
The guy standing in the doorway freezes. I cover my mouth to hold in my scream.
Behind the guy, Stu frowns at me. “Sofie? Something wrong?”
The guy’s wearing black work pants and a Finn River Ranch work shirt that strains at his shoulders, the short sleeves revealing tanned forearms and the outline of a snake tattoo at his left elbow. His thick, dark hair is shorter than I remember from the diner, but his eyes are the same striking gray-blue. Like wet slate. Eyes that a person could see from outer space.
“I… uh… a guest complained about the walkways,” I say. “Slick.”
The guy scowls and tilts his head.
My heart is pounding so loud I can’t think. His look is a warning. Why? Have I done something wrong?
“Anyone get hurt?” Stu asks.
I shake my head. “Um, no.”
The guy slips past me and pushes out the side door. Before I can catch a breath, he’s melted into the bright sunlight. My head gives a sharp throb, making me wince .
“Good,” Stu says. “I’ll look into it.”
Maybe it’s the breeze coming from the outside, or maybe it’s the emptiness in the guy’s departure, but I cross my arms like I’m cold. “New hire?” I ask Stu.
Stu is a former college football linebacker, and if he wasn’t a total softie, his size and stoicism would scare the crap out of me. “Yep. Zach’s gonna be in the field.”
He doesn’t elaborate, so I nod and turn away. Outside, there’s no sign of the guy—Zach.
In the field . What is that supposed to mean?
It makes me think of my dad’s fieldwork as a conservation officer. If Zach is some kind of field hand for the ranch, I doubt I’ll see him. This shouldn’t make little needles dance down my spine. Especially after his look of warning.
Is he afraid of me?
I’m going to find out why.
The rest of my day drags on, but only because I can’t seem to stop checking the window for Zach. At naptime, I rock with a fussing Pippa until she relaxes on my shoulder. I know I should put her down, but the sensation of cradling her and the gentle sway of the glider is soothing me, too. It’s my first full day back since the accident. I would have started sooner, but my boss, Eddi, made me wait a full two weeks.
It should have been enough time to process what happened, but not knowing the identity of the guy who rescued me not once but twice has made the accident play on a loop inside my mind. Add in my worry about Jesse considering a move to L.A. thanks to Mom’s careless invitation, and it’s a wonder I’ve gotten any rest at all. As much as I want to support my brother, Los Angeles and its temptations would eat him alive.
On Tuesdays, Linnie has garden club after school, so I have time to grab groceries before picking her up.
She greets me with a warm hug, her gangly arms wrapping me tightly. I savor it for as long as she lets me, then take her backpack. In the sunlight, her blue eyes look exactly like Dad’s .
“Oof, what do you have in here, rocks?” I ask.
“It was library day, duh.”
I also suspect she left most of her lunch untouched. Since the accident, she’s been complaining about stomachaches. It’s hard not to worry about it.
She climbs into the front seat, a recent change I’m still getting used to, and buckles. Once we’re ready, I pull away from the curb.
“Is Jesse coming over?” She tucks her long hair behind her ears, making her dangly silver star earrings sway.
“Yep. He and Neve are coming for supper.”
Linnie wrinkles her nose at the mention of Jesse’s current girlfriend.
I resist pointing out that the alternative is Jesse not coming at all.
“Can I read when we get home?” Linnie asks.
“After chores and your homework,” I remind her.
She looks out the window, her shoulders slumping.
I turn toward the mountain, skirting the Finn River Ranch property for several scenic miles.
Zach’s gonna be in the field rings through my thoughts. Could I find him? I’m sometimes in the field, too, though not for the ranch.
The news stories about the crash labeled him “a bystander.” I waited for more, but the crash is now old news. Could I be the only one at the ranch who knows what Zach did? Based on that look, he wants to keep it that way.
Why?
The road curves before dropping into the valley. We parallel the river, my car whipping up a plume of gravel dust, to our long driveway. When I get to the end, Neve’s flashy Audi is parked at the edge of the fence. Dad’s work truck and the trailer are gone, but it’s hunting season, and until it snows, he’s a rare sight.
As soon as I stop the car, Linnie bursts from the car and through the gate, her long hair whipping in the afternoon breeze. Fergie, our Shepherd-Setter mix, jumps up from her sunny spot on the porch to greet her.
I sling Linnie’s backpack over one shoulder and scoop the bag of groceries from the back. Jesse appears, with Linnie riding piggyback. It looks awkward with his shoulder still in a sling, but Linnie knows to be gentle.
I squat down to give Fergie some love. She rewards me by snarfing my ear before dashing off with the others.
“Need help?” Jesse asks while Linnie clings to him like a koala bear. It’s a sight that warms me all the way down to my toes. After the accident, I thought maybe we were broken for good. Dad was furious with Jesse and so worried about me. But Jesse hasn’t let it keep him away, like in the past.
“Can you fix Linn a snack?”
“On it.” Jesse spins around so fast that Linnie yelps. He holds the gate open for me, and when I slip by him, he mutters, “Tox screen came back negative.”
I pause to give him a side-eye, but he’s not bullshitting me. “Okay.”
He huffs a breath. “Yeah. So you have nothing to worry about.”
If only this were true. “Good.”
I continue to the porch and slip off my shoes before stepping inside, nearly colliding with Neve, who is on her way out.
“Sorry, forgot about my shoes.” We do an awkward do-si-do in the cramped entryway.
I continue into the kitchen and slide the bag of groceries onto the counter, then set Linnie’s backpack on one of the dining room chairs.
Apparently, I intimidate Neve, even though I try to be welcoming. If Jesse wants to be with her, I’m not about to do anything that could push him further away.
“I brought fresh rosemary bread,” Neve says, brushing her silky black hair from her face.
“Thank you.” I give her a kind smile.
While Jesse tends to Linnea’s snack needs, I change clothes and grab my barn coat from the hook in the mudroom, and slip outside. Fergie joins me, her nose tipped to the air like my own personal sentry. The breeze carries the bite of early fall, making the aspen leaves rustle in a way that melts the tension in my shoulders. I inhale the earthy mineral scent of the land.
Home.
Jesse’s tox screen came back clean. How? He was high. I know the signs. Did whatever he took clear his system before they administered the test in the hospital? Or maybe it was contaminated by the medications they gave him?
There’s another possibility, and it’s not good. My stomach muscles tense. I try to ignore the dread creeping up my spine, but by the time I finish my barn chores, I’m trembling like I’m going to be sick.
Because I told Gabe I was done with being jerked around. But if I owe him a favor this big, he and I are far from done.