Chapter 20
Midmorning bled into late afternoon, and relief seeped through Reid’s sore muscles.
Tending the flowerbeds might have given Eve some comfort, but his dirt-caked fingers and throbbing side were glad to be done for the day.
Scrubbing his hands in the kitchen sink, he tried to block out the splatter of water rushing from the shower in the next room.
Because if his mind drifted to the shower, it’d create a vision of the woman currently standing under that spray of warm water.
His stomach muscles clenched, and he shut off the faucet. If he washed his hands until he stopped thinking about Eve, his skin would crack and bleed. He located a towel to dry off his palms and was sidetracked by his ringing phone.
A quick glance at the screen before answering showed Madden’s name. “Hey, man. What’s up?”
“Just checking in,” Madden said. “How are things going?”
Reid grabbed the towel and dried his hands before tossing it on the island and walking into the living room.
The furniture was sparse—a large gray sectional in the middle of the room and a television balanced on a stand too small for its size—but it was enough for now.
He sank onto the oversize cushion of the sofa and leaned back with the phone pressed to his ear.
“Things are good. I might even see if she wants to crash here for the night. She likes it here. I even put her to work.”
Madden chuckled. “Oh yeah? She hanging backsplash in the kitchen?”
“Not quite. We cleaned up the front flowerbed and planted some bulbs for spring. Put down some mulch. I thought it’d be good for her.” He didn’t dive into detail as to why he’d wanted Eve to lend a hand in cultivating the garden and appreciated Madden’s lack of questions.
“Tell her I said thanks for the help.”
The padding of footsteps on the wooden floors reached Reid’s ears seconds before Eve emerged from the hallway.
Her wet hair hung down her back and her face was free of makeup.
Black yoga pants showed off her toned legs, and her fitted long-sleeved shirt made his imagination go wild.
“She’s here now. You can tell her yourself. ”
As she sat beside him, Reid activated the speaker function.
“Hi, Eve,” Madden said. “Heard you and Reid did some work outside. Appreciate it, but don’t let Reid boss you around.”
“Ha!” Reid said. “You must not know Eve very well if you think that’s possible.”
Eve jabbed him with her elbow. “Watch yourself.”
Madden’s chuckle rumbled through the line. “Trust me, I’ve known Eve a long time. She only does what she wants. But other than the gardening, you guys holding up okay?”
Reid hooked an arm around Eve, letting his fingers dangle along her bicep. He wouldn’t let Madden know just how well he was doing here with Eve. “We’re good.”
Eve grinned, gaze latched on him. “Yeah. No complaints.”
“Glad to hear, but I didn’t just call to check in. I spoke with the sheriff’s department about Tyson Brown.”
Eve’s body tensed, and Reid pulled her closer.
“They watched video from town this morning and were able to catch the plate number off a truck that a man matching his description drove away from the coffee shop. The vehicle is registered to his former father-in-law. Law enforcement all over the county is on the lookout for the vehicle as well as Tyson. His photo is being circulated online and posted in local businesses.”
“It’s about damn time,” Reid grumbled. “So now we have his name and know what his vehicle looks like. Any news on where he’s been staying?”
“No.” Madden heaved out a long sigh. “Deputies haven’t seen any activity on a credit card, and they’ve spoken with the proprietors of all the local hotels.
No one recognizes the guy. Deputy Silver said they’re going to look farther out of town.
See if they can nail down his location. He’s got to be holed up somewhere. ”
“Unless he’s sleeping in his truck,” Eve said.
“Definitely a possibility,” Madden said. “But at least now we know what kind of vehicle to be on the lookout for. Deputies are also digging into his past, talking to friends and family. They showed me a picture of his ex-wife. It’s a little disconcerting.”
Reid frowned. “What do you mean?”
“She looks a hell of a lot like Eve. And Dana Fishel, the barrel racer.”
Eve shrank against the cushion as if trying to hide. “I was a sitting duck. There was no reason for him to target me except my auburn hair and hazel eyes. And for what? To punish the wife who left him?”
Anger beat against Reid’s temples as the color drained from her face.
They’d spent hours attacking the garden to keep her mind off her troubles, to help her take back some control and joy.
All it took was one phone call to wash that all away.
To bring her right back to this place of fear.
“Bad people do bad things for all sorts of reasons that seldom make sense.”
“And we will find him,” Madden said. “While Reid is making sure you’re safe, the rest of Sunrise Security is doing everything we can to aid the sheriff’s department. You’re our main priority, Eve.”
She summoned a smile that Reid didn’t quite believe.
She was close to reaching the breaking point, and as much as he wanted to get details from Madden, there wasn’t anything else Eve needed to know.
“How’s Tara liking the grand tour of Tremont Ranch?” he asked, switching gears.
“Lily’s keeping her busy. They took Queenie and Ace on a trail ride, and Lily’s giving her an inside look at how we run our weddings.
Tara seems to be enjoying herself, and they’ve stayed close.
I don’t think Tara’s at risk, but we’re not taking any chances.
I’m here, doing what I can from the phone and computer. ”
“Thanks for watching out for her, but I don’t want you getting an earful from the sheriff for not being at the rodeo keeping an eye on things.”
“It’s apparent at this point Tyson’s goal is getting to Eve, not terrorizing anyone at the rodeo. Showing his face there will only hurt his chances of getting what he wants. Dax and Ben are still at the fairgrounds, just in case, but like I said, my priority is doing what I can for Eve.”
“Thanks, Madden,” she said.
“Anything for you, Eve,” Madden said. “You two take it easy. I’ll let you know if I find out any more information.”
Reid disconnected and tossed his phone on the cushion. He leaned back, shifted to hook his knee on the sofa and face Eve.
“What now?” she asked.
“Whatever you want.”
“What I want is to pinpoint Tyson Brown and finish this mess, but I don’t think that’s an option.”
He gave a little tug on a strand of her hair. “I wish it was. We just have to wait and trust everyone to do their job.”
“I hate being in limbo.” She heaved out a long sigh. “Time to paint?”
Laughing, he shook his head. “I have something else in mind. We worked through lunch, and I’m starving. It’s early, but if I grill the steaks now, we can enjoy dinner on the back deck. The view is amazing.”
She glanced at her watch. “Early-bird special it is. Do you need help?”
“Can you handle baked potatoes and salad?”
Tipping her chin, she aimed raised brows his way. “I own a restaurant, remember?”
He lifted his palms. “No insult intended. I’ll grill, you bake and toss, and we’ll spend the evening enjoying each other’s company.”
Leaning forward, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Deal.”
Strolling to the kitchen, a lightness lifted his steps despite the seriousness of their situation. A cozy cabin, a good meal and a beautiful woman—things almost couldn’t be better.
The twangy voice of Eve’s favorite country singer boomed through her phone speaker.
The garden might be where she found her peace, but the kitchen was where she found her purpose.
As far back as she could remember, she’d helped her parents at Tilly’s.
Her mom would set her up in the corner of the kitchen with a tiny bowl and whisk, letting her make her own creations.
Okay, so that might not have actually helped her parents, but at the time, she’d assumed she was the number-one employee.
Later on, she’d waited tables and learned how to prepare dishes.
Once she reached twenty-one, she tended bar and took on more managerial responsibilities.
Now that the bar and grill was hers, she didn’t get her hands as dirty as she liked, but she hadn’t lost her touch with a couple of potatoes and a bowl full of vegetables.
And just like at Tilly’s, she lost herself in the mundane and familiar tasks. Her voice cracked along with the melody, but she didn’t care. She swayed her hips as she prepared her part of the meal.
The French doors to the deck opened, and Reid strolled in with a platter of meat. Scents of garlic and butter wafted in the air. “What’s going on in here? A cat dying?”
Laughing, she grabbed a nearby towel and tossed it at him. “Are you saying I’m a bad singer?”
“I’m saying you were born with more faults than two left feet.”
She anchored one fist on her hip. “I didn’t hear any complaints about my dancing last night.”
His expression turned serious, and he lessened the space between them with three long strides. Setting the platter of meat onto the counter, he cradled her jaw in his palm. “Trust me, there wasn’t a damn thing wrong with that dance or what came after it.”
Heat splashed against her cheek, but she didn’t break their eye contact—didn’t break the connection tethering her to him. “Well, if there wasn’t anything wrong with how my feet move, I guess that means my voice is great, too.”
His smile took over his face, and he pressed his lips to hers. “Everything about you is great. Ready to eat?”
“Mmm-hmm. Want some wine? I know you’re more of a beer guy, but I grabbed a bottle of red at the store.”
“Uh, sure. Just a little, though. I’m on the clock.” He winked, but the usually playful gesture didn’t cover the weird dip in his voice that told her something more was lurking behind his words.