The Drake House (3 page)

All attention lost to the annoying newcomer, Trisha craned her neck to look at her favorite old man. She kissed him on the cheek before dropping her news. “I had a problem on the orchard this morning. We found a tree cut down, and not by one of us.”

Steve stood. “Probably came down in a storm or something, Trish.”

She whipped him a don’t-be-stupid look. “I know the difference between cut down, storm damage, and rotting.” She pulled the note Brad found out of her pocket, handing it to Wayne. “Plus, there was this under a branch.”

Wayne’s face hardened, drawing out each frown line with clarity. “Stay away from what?”

“How the hell should I know?” she barked, then softened her tone. “I’m sorry. I’m upset. All I know is the tree was fine yesterday at our check. There are hack marks, so someone used an axe, not a chainsaw.”

Wayne nodded. “Probably because you’d hear the chainsaw. It wasn’t one of your guys? Playing a prank?”

“No. I know and trust my men. It wasn’t them. Should I be scared? What kind of threat is it if I have no idea what they’re talking about?”

“Have you had any disagreements with anyone?” Steve asked.

“Not that I am aware of. Are there any new rumors about me?”
Small towns
, she sighed.
Chock full of gossip, most of it untrue
.

They shook their heads. Wayne cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll ask around, but this is pretty vague. Where was the tree?”

“The west end of the property, last row.”

Steve and Wayne exchanged a look before Wayne said, “I’ll pop over and take a look. I’ll get back to you.”

She nodded, satisfied Wayne would be true to his word. “Come over for dinner on Friday night. The guys are going out.”

“You cooking?”

“Hell, no. I like you; I wouldn’t want to kill you.” She beamed and wiggled her brows. “When’s the last time you had a good meal?”

“Last time I was at your place, I guess. I’ll be there at six.”

****

Nick observed the interaction between his new boss and Miss Eaton unnoticed.

The gut-punch reaction he had seeing her for the first time, standing there in the station, was screaming at him to take heed. Ever since the accident—he almost laughed out loud at his word choice—he’d been empty. Colors weren’t vivid, if he even saw them at all. The world seemed to float between black and white and that hazy sepia tone. Scent was non-existent. He hadn’t smelled so much as a pine needle in months. And sleep? At best, he got two hours at night, sometimes three during daylight. Mostly though, he felt empty. Uncaring. Useless.

The oxygen left his lungs when he saw Miss Eaton, however. For a moment, just a split fraction of a second, color came back. Like a blink it faded, making him wonder if he imagined the experience, or if the shrinks in Milwaukee were right.

Her long, reddish brown hair, the color of chestnuts on a winter night, was tied up in a ponytail, showing an oval face with big brown eyes. Eyes bordering on hazel in this light. Some wisps of curly tendrils had broken free from her ponytail, brushing her neck, long and elegant. Regal almost. Her mouth was lush and cherry and irritated with him.

He sure wasn’t going to start being attracted to tomboys who wore flannels and played in the dirt. Besides, by the sound of it, she was married anyway.

No ring though.

He rolled the name around in his head.
Trisha Eaton
. Feisty and affectionate, with everyone in the room but him. He could have abated that by shaking her hand in greeting, but his limbs seemingly forgot how to operate. Something niggled at the back of his brain telling him not to touch her, something dangerously close to lust. He usually liked blondes. Leggy ones. Not brunettes with curves and attitude.

Stay away
.

She peered over at him then, those brown eyes ready for battle, impatience written all over her face. He adjusted his stance to match the same in defense.
Did she say something else?

She looked back at Wayne. “Why do we have a new deputy anyway?”

Wayne’s grin widened. “I have to retire sometime.”

Miss Eaton apparently didn’t like that explanation. “He’s replacing you? What about Steve?”

“Don’t want to,” Steve said.

She appeared to be mulling that over. “And you picked this guy? He can’t talk. He’s rude.” When no one commented, or objected, she went on to ask, “When are you retiring?”

“Don’t know, Apple. A year, a few months.”

She glanced back at Nick and made a point to size him up from head to toe. “In that case, you can come to dinner at my house on Friday night, too. It requires minimal conversation. But
you
I’ll subject to my cooking.”

Apparently, that was a big threat.
I’ll have to remember that
.

Steve burst out in a hoot from behind the counter and slapped his hand down. “Oh, she’s got it in for you.”

Nick trained his voice to sound neutral. “I’ll check my schedule.”

She leveled him a long look. “See that you do. This is a small community. It would be nice to get to know who’s protecting us.”

Apparently appalled by her rant, she shook her head and all exasperation left her features. Nick suppressed a grin. Odd, since he hadn’t been able to smile in months either.

Miss Eaton leaned over the counter and pecked a goodbye kiss on Steve’s cheek while the deputy was still rubbing his eyes from laughter. Nick skilled his gaze away from her ass. She hugged Wayne and wove around Nick to the door, her arm brushing his. Her soft, pale skin contrasting his dark skin.

“See you at six on Friday,” she said.

“Yep.” Wayne was still grinning. He watched her walk out before commenting again. “Got on her bad side, you did.”

Nick shrugged his shoulders.

“Not many people get on her bad side,” Steve uttered from behind the desk. “She lives by the Drake house—
dom, dom, dom
.” He chimed in gloomy drones.

Wayne gave him a dirty look. “Knock it off.”

“What’s the Drake house?” Nick asked.

“You can’t just say the Drake house,” Steve answered. “You have to say it with the
doms
after it.”

“Never mind that,” Wayne said immediately and bore a warning glance at Steve. “Trisha’s a good woman who has nothing to do with the place. The county owns the house and land, and no one goes near it. Occasionally, the teenagers are caught snooping around there, so keep your eye out for that. It’s private property.”

“Very private,” Steve muttered.

Hmm, interesting. First week on the job and already a town secret and a dinner invitation from a beautiful, yet untouchable woman.
Nick suppressed a frown.
Small towns are funny places.

****

Long after sundown, when Trisha once again could not drift to sleep, she meandered through the orchard. The night was mild and calm for late March.
These are the perfect nights,
she thought. Before it grew too hot to breathe or too cold to stroll at night. She loved the dark. All humanity was hushed and peaceful, and no one was around to hear her think. She breathed deep, smelling the lingering frost and pine.

Without realizing it, she wandered to the far west end of her property, looking at the gaping hole where one tree was missing. Her men had cleared the tree after Wayne came out to inspect it. It still made her madder than hell.

As she kept walking, the neat rows of apple trees stopped and the other tree line sheltering Alexandra Drake’s house crept up on her. Tall pines snaked along the property line, intermingled with oak and maple, so dense she couldn’t see twenty feet into the woods, even with all the leaves gone. At night, this part of her world disturbed her, not only in dreams, but while wide-eyed as well. There was sadness here and an underlying fear no one dared to discuss. It always had her interest and curiosity. It always had the town worried.

Could that be what the note was about? To stay away from the woods?
In the past, she had sleepwalking episodes near the tree line, but not for over a year. That she was aware of; none of her men had been that close either. They were all as spooked as the town about the deserted house and land.

Everyone knew there was a back path to the Drake house on her property, barely visible now with overgrowth. She’d never used it, had never seen the house itself. Though long dead, Alexandra’s house and memory haunted Small Rapids like a curse. A single chain dangling across the path was enough to keep any and all away from there. There was another chain on the main road blocking the driveway entrance.

The wind kicked up, blowing the hair away from her face with the forceful gust. With the wind came what sounded like a voice, too quiet to be a whisper, too loud to be an echo from the road. Trisha froze, and for a freak moment, she wondered if she was dreaming. An abrupt feeling of pain and desperation flooded her, assaulting in how fast it overtook her. Trisha backed up a full two paces and, mesmerized, she stared down the path as if in a trance. She narrowed her eyes and strained to hear, but the voice did not come again.

A branch snapped behind her and, whirling around, she spotted someone else in the dark. “Jesus, Brad. You scared me to death.”

“What are you doing out here?” her friend and workman asked, his voice unruffled. His short brown hair was gentled by the now calm breeze and he looked almost gaunt in the darkness.

“I was…walking,” she claimed, rubbing her chest for comfort.

“You shouldn’t be near the tree line by yourself at night.”

“That’s ridiculous—”

“It’s not,” he interjected with force. “Not after today. Not after a threat.”

She glared at the harsh lines of his face, his arms crossed over his chest. “What do you think the note meant? You think it was about the Drake property?”

He didn’t look away, but he didn’t respond either.

“All right. Why don’t you walk me back to the house?”

He nodded, falling into step with her. “Some of the trucks need oil,” he said after a few moments.

“That’s right,” she said, aggravated with herself. “Eduardo mentioned it. I went into town to get Chuck’s birthday gift and was going to pick some up, but I forgot.”

“Forgot?” he replied, obviously appalled.

She could almost hear his thoughts.
Trisha Eaton never forgot anything when her spread was concerned.

“No. Well…with reporting the tree, and Nancy had me pick up some stuff at the grocery store, and then I met the new deputy, and he got me all irritated and I forgot.”

“I see. You met him, then.” His answer was short and to the point instead of poking fun at her for rambling.

“I don’t like him.”

He grinned at her for that. “Me either.”

Trisha offered him a sarcastic side-glance. “You don’t like anyone.”

“True. But I especially don’t like him.”

There was no sense in asking him why; Brad probably didn’t know himself. She chuckled comfortably and wove her arm through his. “Thanks for walking me back,” she said near the porch.

“Just don’t go near the tree line alone. I don’t like it.”

“Yes, sir,” she mocked.

Brad didn’t associate with many people, and he seemed to like it that way. He always came to her with anything, trusted her. They had a very respectful friendship. Not like the silly types found in movies, but with genuine vast conversation and conformity. So when he asked something of her, she tried to oblige, because through the years, Brad asked very little of her.

On impulse she leaned in and hugged him. “If you lighten up a bit, I’ll listen and stay away from the property line.”

He grunted, his mouth a thin line. This, she knew, was him being playful. Most others would scamper at that face. “Go in the house, Trish.”

He observed her until she did so, and then she watched him through the window until he was out of sight.

Chapter Two

“Get your fingers out of there,” Nancy snapped, swatting Eduardo’s hand away from her serving platter.

Eduardo sat with a plop next to Trisha at the kitchenette table and frowned. “You’re her boss; can’t you do something?”

“I already got my hand slapped away. Besides,” she said with a smile, “I learned a long time ago this is your wife’s kitchen and I should stay out of the way.”

“That’s right,” Nancy claimed without looking up from her task. “You’re going out anyway. This is for our guests.”

“It’s just Wayne,” Trisha informed. “He won’t mind if we nibble some.”

Nancy poked her head up with a look only a mother could give. “You invited that nice new man, too.”

“He won’t come. I was mean to him.”

Nancy did her best to hide a smirk. “And why were you mean to him?”

Before she could answer, Chuck barreled through the kitchen door wearing what he called his “nice jeans” and a black T-shirt that said
Ladies Beware
. Brad trailed after quietly and sat down at the table across from her.

“Are we ready for man’s night out?” Chuck asked Eduardo.

Trisha shook her head and rose to smooth her knee-length plaid print skirt. “Just make sure one of you stays sober so I don’t have to come get you again.”

“You look nice,” Brad uttered with a bland, unreadable expression. What he was really saying was,
You put on a skirt for the new guy
.

No, she didn’t. Trisha just liked to wear something besides jeans all the time. She adjusted her long-sleeved black shirt and checked her black tights. “Thanks.”

Chuck beamed from ear to ear. “It’s the naughty school girl outfit. Very nice. Who’s coming over?”

Eduardo broke out in uproarious laughter. He put his hands up to surrender at Trisha’s unamused glare. “Hey, I didn’t say it this time.”

“This is
not
a naughty school girl outfit,” Trisha defended. “And it’s just Wayne coming over.”
How sad is it that the workmen know my wardrobe?