Chapter 6
“ A re you sure you’re okay?” Caleb turned off the highway, sneaking a glimpse at Brigit’s wan face in the glow of the dashboard lights.
“Yeah. Just tired I guess.”
One thing about Bridge was that she was a shitty liar. He’d suggested they head back to Justin’s when she’d grown noticeably quiet after the talk about his childhood.
She was probably marveling over what a close call she’d had. Not only did he not have a roof over his head, he had no reliable family left alive.
Or did she feel sorry for him? Pity was the numero uno reason he never talked about his life. He got enough of that, and even though his mom had made terrible mistakes and horrible decisions, he hated how her failures were all anyone saw.
There wasn’t much else to see, to be honest, but it was the kid in him. The one who’d sat by Grandma and sifted through Mom’s old school artwork and heard the stories of Mom’s first Christmas, the school play when she was ten, and how she’d loved riding horse with Grandpa.
But enough of Mom. He’d dwelled on his past too much lately. Perhaps it was Brigit back in his life, or rebuilding the house he’d grown up in.
He sailed down the gravel road, his brights lighting up the ditches with the heat kicking out the chill of a Minnesota November.
He’d just opened his mouth to comment on how she’d impressed Derrick when a flicker of movement in the grass caught his eye. Letting off the gas, he poised his foot over the brake. A deer with a modest-sized rack darted onto the road, saw his pickup, and stopped, right smack in front of him.
Caleb stomped on the brake, but he didn’t have time to lay on the horn.
His seat belt tightened around him, and Brigit’s head flew forward, her hair swirling around her face as her belt caught her.
A thud sounded over the skittering of gravel, and the body of the buck bounced onto his hood and slid off the driver’s side.
A whirl of dust surrounded them and quickly cleared away.
“Shit.” At least they were okay. It’d been a buck, but from his quick glimpse, the deer had been young. Big enough to dent and scratch his hood, though.
“Thank goodness it didn’t come through the windshield.” Brigit unhooked her seat belt and leaned over to peer out his window, but the animal had landed out of the glow of his headlights.
Caleb guided the vehicle to the side of the road, parked, and turned on his hazards. “I just hope it died on contact.” He didn’t like the idea of killing the animal, but it was better than letting it suffer.
He dug out his phone and hopped out. Brigit exited behind him. The road was empty and the Walkers who lived on each side were probably snug in their beds. Dillon’s and Cash’s houses were still a half mile away. The lights shouldn’t bother them.
Brigit rounded on the deer, the light on her phone shining on the face. The creature was on its side, its head at an angle few mammals could tolerate. She shone her light over the eyes.
“Dead.”
“At least there’s that.” He called the dispatcher. “Hey, Evie. I hit a deer by Dillon Walker’s. Can you send someone? Perfect.”
His insurance might not require a report, but after his house, he didn’t want to take chances. His rates were already going to skyrocket.
Fuck.
He grabbed a bigger flashlight from his vehicle. The damage was isolated to the front. He cast the beam over the hood.
Double fuck. The antlers had gouged and scratched the paint, his grill was busted, and there was a dent the size of the buck in the hood. It’d look worse in the morning.
But he’d seen worse accidents with smaller deer.
“Oh my. Look at that.” Brigit crossed to him. “I’m so sorry.”
Yep. “At least I slowed a little, or he might’ve taken one of us with him.”
“I never saw him.”
“I did, but not in time.” He sighed. Brigit rubbed his back. Deer accidents were common enough that everyone in Moore knew what came next: spending money to fix his vehicle. A lot of it. But they were okay. That was what mattered.
Headlights lit up the distance. He turned, almost wanting more time alone with her. It was cold and dark, but he barely noticed either.
“That was fast,” Brigit murmured.
“Must’ve been in the area.”
The patrol car parked behind his pickup, but at a slight angle to shine its headlights on the carcass. Caleb wished Farah were on duty, but he got along with the other deputies too.
Brigit sidestepped out of the glare of the headlights and hovered on the side of the road by his pickup.
Cote Yellowbird unfolded his tall frame and tipped his hat. “Cruise, you hitting my deer?”
Caleb grinned despite the pit in his stomach at his draining finances. “This here is a city deer, Deputy.”
Cote chuckled. “You’re my fourth deer-on-car action this week. ’Tis the season.” He wandered through the scene, shining his flashlight on Caleb’s bumper, then on the deer. The beam of light lifted to where Brigit waited by the pickup. She gave a little wave.
“Cote, do you know Brigit Walker?”
“The name only. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“Wish it were under better circumstances.” She smiled but didn’t cross to join them.
Caleb gauged her stance. Was she just cold, or trying not to be seen with him?
Cote interrupted his speculation. “Tell you what. I’ll write you a permit if you wanna keep it.”
Loading Justin’s freezer with fresh roadkill venison would assuage his guilt slightly, but the logistics were hard to figure out.
Grandpa had never been a hunter, and Caleb didn’t use his guns for anything other than the occasional rabid skunk or coyote stalking his calves. “I don’t have a field kit.”
“I always carry one, just in case, you know, a motorist turns down the offer.” Cote’s long strides ate the distance to his trunk. “You can borrow it. Lemme know when you’re on duty and I’ll swing by and grab it.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll spill the secrets behind the cuts of moose you donate to the firemen’s wild game feed?”
Cote flashed a smile as he handed over a leather bag full of tools. “I didn’t hear any of you complaining.”
“As long as it was fresh when you found it.”
Cote snorted. “It was probably in better shape than the vehicle that hit it. I’m sure it was a bunch of kids out drinking, and I’d love to hear how they explained to their parents why there was a dent the size of a seven-hundred-pound moose in their hood.
They were only able to drive away because it’d been a young bull.
” He murmured into the radio clipped to his collar. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”
Their surroundings dimmed as Cote swung his patrol car back to do a K-turn and leave.
Brigit had been quiet the whole time, like she’d been trying to fade into the background. Easy to do in the middle of the night.
His jaw tensed. Cote was perceptive, but he wasn’t a guy who’d jabber about who he’d seen with whom. Caleb could reassure Brigit, but fuck it.
He’d been her dirty little secret before. At least now he knew how the game was played.
The sixty-watt bulb in the wooden toolshed was adequate enough for stringing up the carcass until there was time to process it.
Old and musty, the shed was the best place to keep the meat protected from predators, or from scaring the sheep.
When it was ready, it’d be processed into venison and sausage.
Quality meat from an unfortunate accident.
Brigit shut the door behind them and stepped in to help Caleb string up the carcass.
This wasn’t the worst night she’d ever spent with a guy. That award went to…what was his name? Jonathon. The night she’d ordered the half-pound mushroom and swiss burger with fries because she was so sick of grilled chicken and side salads.
After dinner, they’d gone to a play, and then since it was their third date, they’d gone back to his place. He’d been getting handsy while she’d been thinking something was terribly wrong.
As she puked into his toilet, her thoughts vacillated between mortification and gratitude that she’d made it to the bathroom instead of spewing over the furniture.
But Jonathon commented on how the amount of food she’d eaten must’ve upset her stomach.
Then he called her a cab. That she’d had to pay for.
So cleaning a deer with Caleb until the wee hours of the morning? Not so bad.
Actually, it was the most fun she’d had on a weekend in a long time, and it ended in a freezer full of food. He’d been quiet since the deputy had left.
Caleb lifted his chin toward his pickup parked outside of the open shed door. “I can clean up the pickup bed and the tools, if you want to shower first.”
“I’ll help with the cleanup. Justin’s not around so I can use his bathroom.” Her brother kept mysterious hours, but he was still a single guy. When he didn’t come home at night, she had one guess as to where he was. She didn’t know who, and in this small town, she preferred not to.
Caleb nodded and moved the pickup. He’d gotten quieter as the night wore on. No doubt the financial ramifications were setting in, and on top of him losing his house. That was enough to make anybody quiet.
Together, they sprayed off his pickup. Her fingers were radiating cold by the time they were done but she didn’t rush inside. No matter how odd her night had been, she didn’t want it to end.
Caleb tossed the bag full of now clean tools inside and slammed the pickup door. “I don’t think my doors will freeze shut.”
She closed the shop door. “You don’t work in the morning, do you?” He hadn’t mentioned anything, but why would he to her?
“I work Tuesday and Friday this week. So I get to deal with insurance and repair estimates tomorrow. At least I have my old beat-up truck working so I can still get around.”
“Oh.” Such an empty word. She had no car to insure and no land to build a house on. Caleb had both and was fighting to keep them.