Quite the Catch (11 page)

If
she would, they’d have a fair shot at a relationship. “So why not move?”

“That’s
a good question. I’ve been thinking about it ever since I came back to be with
my grandpa,” Tina said. “I originally planned to go back but now I don’t know
if I will. If I stay, though, I’d have to find a job and I don’t know how many
nursing jobs there are around here.”

“I
bet you could find one somewhere close.” Hope fluttered somewhere between his
throat and belly. Once he apprehended the fugitive and brought the others to
justice, Joshua craved a life—one with a woman.
Not just any woman,
he thought.
With Tina.

“Maybe,”
she said. “What about your house? What’s it like?”

“Guess.”

“Oh,
Lord, I don’t know. One of those newfangled log cabins? No? Is it maybe a
mobile home?”

Joshua
laughed. “
Naw
, I’m a little scared of trailers.”

“Why?”

“He
sobered. “I’ve seen too many destroyed by tornadoes and this is twister
country. I know they destroy houses too, but trailers go easy.”

“True
enough,” Tina said. “So tell me, what kind of house is it?”

“It’s
a little
ol
’ shotgun house,” he drawled. “I’ve got
three whole rooms, plus an added-on bathroom.”

“Sounds
small but
kinda
’ cozy too,” she said. “I can’t wait
to see it.”

The
outskirts of Sallisaw loomed ahead. “Well, it won’t be long now.”

All
the way, Joshua had checked the rearview mirror to see if they were being
tailed but so far, so good. Some of his clenched muscles eased a fraction and
he blew out air, long and slow. Maybe things weren’t as dire as he’d thought. There
might be a chance Tina’s cousin over exaggerated things. He doubted it, but for
the moment he could hope and enjoy his first visit home in weeks.

Only
time can tell what would happen, he realized, as a firm realist and believer in
fate.

Chapter Eleven

Sallisaw
hadn’t changed much since she had last passed through. Like many other small
towns in Oklahoma, the highway became the original main thoroughfare. The
scenery shifted from open country and the usual convenience stores, strip
malls, and restaurants, to a traditional downtown with old brick buildings with
high sidewalks. A short strip of refurbished buildings were meant to resemble a
frontier town, but Tina couldn’t decide if she found the idea cute or creepy. Too
aware of Joshua’s proximity to do much sightseeing, she wanted to bask in the
previous night’s delight. At the same time, she worried about what might happen
next.

The
abrupt shift from after-sex happiness to instant fear when Charles called had
upset her inner balance. As the miles rolled behind them, though, she noticed
Joshua’s tension ebbed. He sat in a more relaxed pose and his hands weren’t
gripping the wheel as tightly as he had earlier. On their way through town she
said little, but at least the silence seemed comfortable, not awkward.

Joshua
knew the way and he followed the country roads with familiar ease. As they
rolled past a small cemetery, he pointed it out to her. “That’s the place where
Charley Floyd lies. I’ve seen old pictures where thousands of people were here
for his funeral. The gravestone isn’t the original, though.”

The
only outlaws she had any interest in at the moment were those seeking them but
she asked, “Why not?”

“People
kept breaking pieces off as souvenirs and after
awhile
there wasn’t much left.”

“That’s
awful.”

“Yeah,”
he said with the quirky little grin she adored. “I suppose it is but people do
a lot of odd shit.”

They
passed Sequoia’s home without comment and as the road narrowed, Joshua turned
the truck down a lane to the left. Just as he’d said, the trees grew thick and
close. As he slowed his speed, branches slapped the cab of the truck. If she
could stick her hand out of a window, she could touch them. “We’re almost
there.”

Tina
nodded. A few minutes later, the drive ended in a clearing ringed with the
woods on three sides. The open side to the west faced a huge field, plowed and
ready for spring planting.

In
the center, the small house he had described sat compact and neat. The way he’d
talked, she had somehow expected ramshackle, but instead the little place
radiated with charm. Painted white, with a deep green trim around the windows
and doors, it reminded her of something on a calendar or painting. “Here it is,
home sweet home.”

Although
he spoke with a light tone, she realized he had a deep affection for the place.
“It’s pretty,” she said. “I can understand why you like it here.”

“Thanks.
Come on, let’s go get what we came for and get out of here. The last thing I
want would be some jackasses finding the place and causing trouble.”

He
bolted out of the truck and marched up to the front door, so she followed. The
sunshine warmed her shoulders and she drew a deep breath, inhaling the sweet perfume
of flowers and growing things. A bed of bright yellow daffodils bloomed beside
the steps and nearby, new spikes pushed out of the ground. Tina wondered if
Joshua planted them or if they had been in place for years. More flowers would
dress the place up but it was pretty now, especially for a single guy’s home.

“Watch
your step,” Joshua said. He stood back to allow her to enter first.

She
entered a small, square room with two windows in front and one on each side. The
hardwood floor shone, punctuated by a few braided rag rugs, the kind kids used
to use in kindergarten. An old television rested on a stand beside the open
doorway leading into the kitchen. Two overstuffed armchairs, a recliner, a
bookcase containing both paperbacks and DVDs, and a battered couch filled the
room to capacity. A single pole lamp stood behind one of the chairs. A few
photographs hung on the walls with a framed Western print.
A
Cherokee chief’s shirt, complete with ribbons displayed in a plastic case, hung
above the couch.
Tina glanced at Joshua.

“My
grandfather’s,” he said. “Grab a seat if you want. This won’t take long.”

Curiosity
to see the rest of the place, combined with a need to pee, prompted her to say,
“I’d like to use your bathroom, please.”

“Sure,”
he said. “It’s through the bedroom, last room of all. Go ahead.”

“Thanks.”

As
far as she could recall, she’d never been inside a “shotgun house” before, but
now she understood the term. If they were all arranged the same as this one,
someone could stand at the front door, fire a shotgun, and the shot would exit
through the back door without hitting a thing.

She
strolled through the kitchen and noted the older appliances. Both the stove and
fridge were dated with the harvest gold color. A dinette table with two chairs
rested against one wall and the sink glistened, empty and very clean.

Joshua’s
bedroom held a neatly made double bed topped with a patchwork quilt, a dresser
with a mirror so old that the glass wavered, and a stereo. A chest of drawers
sat in one corner with blue jeans stacked on top. Tina noted two doors. One
would be the closet, the other the bathroom. She opted for the one on the rear
wall and entered the bathroom. Sea green fixtures complimented the forest green
walls and like everything else she’d seen so far, it was tidy.

After
she finished, Tina found Joshua in the kitchen. Assorted firearms were spread
out across the table and he sat backward in one of the chairs. The smell of gun
oil assaulted her nose as he cleaned a pistol. “Did your grandpa teach you how
to clean weapons or just to shoot?”

“Both,”
she replied. “Want me to help?”

“Sure.
The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

Tina
took a seat and smiled as a breeze wafted through the open window. The fresh,
clean scented air invigorated her. “What’s the rush? I like it here.”

He
snorted. “So do I, honey, but I’d rather not get ambushed here at
home.
”

Her
gaze dropped to the firepower on the table.
“Why not?
I don’t see any difference between here or at Gramps’ place. We’re in trouble
either way, aren’t we?”

“We’re
at the end of a dead end lane,” he said. “There’s no other way out except over
the open field, which isn’t a good idea, or through the woods, which isn’t much
better. Over there, we have a few other options.”

The
serious expression he wore eroded away most of her contentment. “You’re totally
expecting them to come after us, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,
I am. My gut tells me soon, too.”

 
She didn’t get it.
“Your
gut?”

“Instinct,”
Joshua said. “
Intuition,
or whatever you want to call
it. I have a feeling and it’s strong.”

“I
thought you meant you had indigestion or something,” she said and shook her
head.

His
lips curled into a lopsided half-smile. “I’ve got that, too,” he told her.
“Always do when something shitty is about to go down.”

“It’s
happening today?”

Joshua
shrugged. “I think so, not sure.”

“Then
let’s get the guns cleaned so we can go.”

Half
an hour later, he wore a shoulder holster with one of his .45 pistols tucked
within and his
Glock
on his belt. Tina placed the .38
he’d borrowed earlier in her purse and accepted the second .45 he offered.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” she asked.

“Keep
it in your lap or within reach,” Joshua said. He didn’t smile, either. “And get
ready. We’re leaving in five minutes or less.”

With
the pistol in her purse and another to carry, there wasn’t anything else Tina
needed to do before they hit the road. “I’m ready when you are,” she told him.

“Okay.”
He opened one of the kitchen cabinets and pulled out a bottle of antacid. He
chugged some down, made a face, and rubbed his abdomen. “Let’s go.”

“I
take it your stomach’s still bothering you?” Ever the nurse, she had to ask.

He
nodded.
“Yeah.”

“
How’s
the rest of you?”

“Sore,”
he said after a long pause. “I still hurt and the pain pills are wearing off
fast. It’s my gut, though, we need to worry about.”

In
her professional opinion, he looked healthy enough.
“Meaning?”

His
eyes darkened, as intense as midnight. “It always kicks up when the shit is
about to hit the proverbial fan. We’re almost out of time, honey. I’ll be
surprised if we make it back to your place before they find us.”

Fear
crawled into her consciousness. “Joshua, I’m more than a little freaked out.”

“I
know,” he said. “Me too, but what can we do?”

This
time, his smile was full wattage and genuine. Despite the circumstances, she
grinned back at him. “Then what are we waiting for?”

Tina
slung her purse over one arm with care and picked up the other pistol. Joshua
grabbed his keys and started for the door, then halted. He lifted a hand in
warning. “Wait.”

She
froze in place, although she couldn’t see anything different. Her lips parted
to ask questions until she heard the unmistakable sound of an approaching
vehicle. Tires crunched on the gravel drive and branches snapped as it advanced
with speed. Tina started toward the window to peer out but Joshua thrust out an
arm. “Stay back,” he said. “I mean it.”

His
body molded against the wall as he glanced through the curtains, his
Glock
in hand. Tina stepped into the doorway between the
kitchen and living room, out of range for now. Then she stood on tiptoe to
catch a glimpse of the approaching truck. Any hopes it might be the electric
company or some friend of Joshua’s died when the pickup roared into the doorway
and parked.

The
same men she’d seen at the riverbank erupted from it. All were armed and each
appeared angry, with their faces twisted into dark expressions. How they’d
tracked them to Joshua’s secluded home presented a mystery, but for the moment
it didn’t matter. Surviving, however, did. Tina focused on the approaching men,
who marched toward the house in unison, their steps measured as if they’d
practiced. Joshua held a cell phone she’d never seen before to his ear and
barked into it. “Yeah, send backup to my place. Now, I repeat, now! I’m under
attack and I’ve got a civilian with me. Yeah, it’s the three
perps
. I do not see the fugitive, repeat, I do not see the
fugitive but there are three men, armed, and approaching my house.”

Benson,
if she remembered who was who correctly, raised a .30-30 rifle and aimed.
Moments later, the kitchen window shattered inward and shards of glass
scattered in every direction. Tina choked back a scream and dropped to the
floor. Joshua cussed, low and vehement, as he called out, “Are you hurt?”

Shaking,
she shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”