Chapter Eight
“I wish I could, but—”
Blaize put a hand up to stop Carys from finishing her sentence. “It was the first thing that popped into my mind. Forget I said it.”
“I thought it was noble,” she said, cracking another layer of ice that encased his heart. At this rate, he’d have no defense left before the weekend was over. “And very sweet.”
“I’m not sweet.” If only she knew what a jerk he could be. She would change her mind faster than a spring hailstorm tore through a town.
Carys smiled. “Fair enough.”
“What will happen to her?”
“The orphanage.” She frowned. “It’s not a terrible place, but it is understaffed at the moment and I hate the thought of someone so little falling through the cracks.
” She was quick to add, “They wouldn’t do it on purpose.
Their mission is good, and they try to do their best. There are some out there I wouldn’t trust as far as I could throw. This isn’t one of those.”
“They can’t find good people?”
“Not enough for the demand.”
“There has to be another way.” He couldn’t stand the thought of Rue spending a night at the orphanage. The little girl perked Kit up, too. “Adoption?”
“You?”
Blaize shook his head. “Right. Bad idea. I have to figure out a way to turn this place around. Money is tight, and I can’t let Kit lose her home, no matter what else happens.
I might need to hire someone to look after her while I work on getting the ranch back in order, which will use up what little money I have left.
I was hoping my brothers would answer my calls, but it’s been crickets from them so far. ”
He didn’t normally talk so much. Talking to Carys came as naturally as honey to a bee. He didn’t have to force words. It was a nice change. When Lynn was in a good place, talking came easier, but it was nowhere near this easy. Carys had a way about her that made him want to open up.
Damned if he could figure out why.
“Did you get into a fight?” She cocked her head to one side.
“I pushed everyone away when Lynn first got sick. Even before that, if I’m honest. I told myself I was protecting her. She had bipolar disorder and wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see her darker sides.”
“That must have been hell.”
“She was a trouper,” he said.
Carys’s eyebrow flew up. “I meant for you.”
“You can’t do that. You can’t go there on the self-pity thing.” It was a downward spiral that led to nowhere good. He knew firsthand.
“I’m not trying to come off as patronizing, but when do you ever prioritize your needs?”
Those words struck like an arrow to the center of his chest. Bull’s-eye.
He tried to laugh it off. “I’ve never minded taking care of someone else.”
“You’re the oldest in your family, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?” He was genuinely perplexed.
“I read this article about birth order and how it affects someone’s personality,” she said. “I’d say you’re a classic firstborn.”
“Because?”
“You take care of everyone else because you’re used to being put in charge.” Her tone wasn’t accusing or coming off as judging, just factual. “You have two brothers, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“So, the middle one is likely the negotiator and the youngest—well, everyone always caters to the baby,” she said. “They usually grow up with the most freedom and know how to push the envelope.”
“No one was catered to by Cormac,” he corrected.
“These are loose definitions.” She studied him. “Do you disagree with the assessments? There’s supposedly a ton of research out there on the subject.”
“Raiden is the middle child of the family, and I can see where he is the peacemaker or the negotiator,” Blaize said.
“Or, at least, when he was talking to me. Growing up, he was the one who stepped in between our younger brother and me when there was an argument.” He cracked a smile. “I was always right, of course.”
She smiled right back. “Goes without saying.”
“Raiden certainly kept a calm demeanor when I butted heads with Cormac,” he said. “Which was probably more often that it should have been.”
“And the youngest?”
“Phoenix definitely got the wild-child gene, but nothing like our father. Phoenix marches to his own drum and never cared what anyone else thought about him. He’s grown now, but he sure ran with the wild mustangs, if you will, when we were younger.
Not party-boy wild. More like a wild horse that didn’t want to be tamed.
In fact, there was a stint when we thought he would run off to join the rodeo.
” He thought about how different their mothers were.
“All three of us come from different relationships, so I’m sure that influenced our personalities as well. ”
“You’re how many years apart?”
“There’s two years between Raiden and me, then one between him and Phoenix.” Cormac was clearly “busy” in his younger days. Busy being a jerk who treated women like they were expendable. Blaize had learned how not to treat the opposite sex by watching dear old dad.
“Yikes.”
“Yep.” That was Cormac. “Classy, right?”
“It’s hard to forgive your parents, isn’t it?” Carys asked after a thoughtful pause. “They’re human, and you kind of remember that. But they can hurt you the most out of anyone else, and their actions shape you for better or worse.”
This sounded like more admission and commiseration than a comment about his life.
“It is next to impossible to forgive the bad ones,” he said. “No one expects them to be perfect. Not as adults anyway. I’ve seen it done right. Take Kit, for example.”
“She is close to perfection.”
He smiled. “I would agree there.”
“And easy to love.”
“It’s strange how her son came out so opposite,” he said. “All Cormac cared about was a good party. I’m still scratching my head as to why my grandfather left him the responsibility of the ranch.”
“Do you think it’s possible your grandfather believed his son might change with the right amount of responsibility or motivation? Grow into the role?”
“It’s hard to know what the man’s thoughts were.
He was the silent type. We always knew he loved us, even though I can’t recall ever hearing him say the words.
It was just his way. He did things like help Kit make our lunches before heading out for a long day working cattle.
Or check in with us at night after we were ready for bed to ask if we’d eaten.
We had and he knew the dinner routine. It was his way of making sure we knew he cared. ”
“Kit is so outgoing,” Carys said. “Guess it is true what they say about opposites attracting.”
He barked out a laugh at that one. It had been true in his marriage. He’d been the steady stream while Lynn had taken the roll of hurricane. “That’s not always a positive.”
“I hear you,” she said, surprising him with her honesty.
“I dated someone I thought was smart, maybe almost too smart, and he became clingy. Thought we were in a serious relationship when we weren’t.
I gave his name to the sheriff when he asked, but I haven’t seen or heard from James in a couple of months. ”
“What do you mean by clingy?” He had no right to be jealous of her ex. Yet there was an undeniable twinge.
“I would turn the aisle at a grocery store and he’d be at the other end, hiding and spying,” she said. “He wasn’t good at it. Other times he’d suddenly be standing beside me while I was distracted looking in the meat case. Used to freak me right out.”
“Did you file a complaint with the law?”
“No.” She shook her head. “He never tried to harm me or attack me in any way. Just left a rose on top of the hood of my car. Or a note saying he missed me and wanted to see me again. Small things like that, along with being in the same place at the same time. All of it used to creep me out. When someone says no, they mean no.”
“Some people need to be taught the meaning of that word.”
Blaize didn’t like the sound of this one bit.
James might have been stewing in his anger, plotting, over these past weeks.
And now, what? He showed up during a storm because he’d been watching her house?
It was plausible. At least the sheriff had James’s name now.
The man could be investigated and vetted.
The sheriff would want to know if James had an alibi for yesterday.
Maybe Blaize could do a little more digging into James’s background now that he had a name to work with and possibly a motive.
Carys’s gaze shifted to the right, focused on something. A worry line creased her forehead.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’m not sure, but I intend to find out,” she said, starting in the direction of the object that had her concerned.
CARYS SAW A glint of metal on the ground in the tree line. She didn’t want to get too ahead of herself, but it looked like it could be some kind of sharp object. A blade of some kind. A weapon?
Fear that the person from last night had tracked her here and came to spy on her was all-consuming.
Could it be James? Would he have followed her here to the ranch?
Knowing him, he would say that he was trying to protect her since she’d gone out into the storm, that he was following her just in case she needed him. Wasn’t that a line he’d used before?
Her skin felt like dozens of fire ants had been let loose on it as she neared the object, realized it was a grill fork. It had a long handle and two sharp, sturdy prongs.
The image of her or Blaize being stabbed with it stamped her thoughts, causing icy fingers to grip her spine.
Blaize glanced over at the barbecue pit and back.
“This could do a lot of damage to someone if they were stabbed with it,” she said to him.
She searched her memory bank to remember when the kiss had happened versus the crashing sound outside.
The kiss came first. She was certain. The thought that James, or some other creep, could have been watching through a window was enough to add a dozen more fire ants biting her skin.
“It sure could,” Blaize said. “The raccoon theory is losing its appeal.”
She picked up a stick and then used it to scoop up the grill fork by the small leather strap. “I seriously doubt the sheriff will be able to lift any usable DNA or prints after the storm we had. Still, I’d like to hold on to this.”
“We can’t be sure anyone was even here,” Blaize said. He was right. She glanced around. The ranch was in need of serious TLC. “But we can try.”
Carys nodded. And then something dawned on her. “Isn’t this a cattle ranch?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s the cattle?” She looked around, surveying the land.
“They aren’t here,” he said. “But you figured that out already. A neighbor came over and took all of them so we could sort out Cormac’s affairs and get Kit settled.”
“That’s nice of them.”
“It’s the way ranchers work. It’s ingrained to help each other out. I still don’t know how all this skipped a generation with Cormac. But my grandfather was a good person and never hesitated to lend a helping hand if someone needed him. People love Kit.”
“I can see why,” she said. “Where I used to live, the big push was to keep the place weird. But no one showed up in your time of need, if you know what I mean.”
“Austin can be fun,” he said with a laugh. She liked his smile and the way his eyes lit up and how the change in conversation broke some of the tension tightening her chest. “Do they still sell those Keep Austin Weird T-shirts?”
“Yes. Everywhere. If anything, people have doubled down.” They were sold at coffee shops, gas stations, and street corners.
“Sounds about right for Austin. It’s more of a vibe than a city. Good music. After Lynn died, I would drive in and hit up a few places on the regular.”
Carys made a mental note to check with bartenders once they got a positive ID on Stephanie Cross. There had to be a picture of her somewhere they could take around to find out how she might have come into contact with Blaize.
“Speaking of weird, it’s strange that someone I can’t remember and am certain I don’t know would put my name on her child’s birth certificate.” His tone was serious, matching the intensity of his gaze. “But these are strange times.”
“I can think of a few reasons.” None that she wanted to say out loud.
He was kind, if rough around the edges. He would make a great dad.
Was someone banking on the fact he wouldn’t remember if they’d slept together or not?
Hedging a bet that he would treat her child like a princess if he believed the girl was also his?
Or that because of his kindness, her daughter would be safer with him if something happened to her?
Questions and speculation swirled with no easy answers.
“Are you going to explain that comment, or do I have to guess?” he asked, his tone lighter.
“I saw you with Rue earlier. Speaking of which, we should probably go inside,” she said, needing time to let those thoughts seed.
“And my brain won’t work much longer without caffeine.
Or breakfast, for that matter. And a glass of water sounds good, too.
” Using the stick, she set the grill fork down. “This is useless, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” He confirmed what she already suspected.
The heavy rains would have washed away any evidence.
If, in fact, anyone had been out there. The racoon really was the most likely culprit.
Her imagination was running wild after the incident with her vehicle.
“Oh, and I need to get to my car soon so I can survey the damage in the daylight.”
Blaize’s smile faded. And she hated being the one to put the frown on his face.