started. We should resist speculating when we don’t have all the facts.”
Myrtle waved her red nails at him in dismissal. “I like how you say ‘we,’ Trooper Thorne. You mean the rest of us. I’m just saying if these two bastards were in D.C. in the hours before my house caught fire, it’s a cinch. If not, we still don’t have all of Lowell’s contract killers.”
Scott eyed her. “We might never be able to prove who started the fire in your house.”
“I refuse to accept that,” she countered.
Nick leaned back, appreciating Myrtle’s determination. “You don’t want to go back to your house until you know what happened,” he said.
She raised her lavender eyes. “Unlike some of us, fires scare the hell out of me.”
Lauren, looking drawn and tired, changed the subject to plans for winter fest and an uptick in bookings at the lodge for that weekend. Nick sat back, observing the interplay among people who’d known one another all their lives and newcomers to Black Falls. He’d been Sean’s friend for ten years but understood him better now. Sean was a part of this. He thought he’d left, but he still had a place here with his family, his hometown. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had never bought property in Black Falls.
Nick ate another cucumber, not really hungry.
What if one of these people was a killer?
What if he ended up being the one to point that out?
Everything would change. Better that two ski bums had unraveled over drugs and one had set the other on fire and then killed himself, whether on purpose or by accident.
Better, even, that Robert Feehan was a skilled arsonist who’d worked for Lowell Whittaker and now was dead and out of the picture.
Nick didn’t think either was the case, and he doubted Rose or anyone else in the room did, either.
Rose was quiet on the drive back to her house. Nick could guess why. “You don’t want me near you tonight,” he said as he turned off the engine.
“Are you reading my mind or warning me?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I can’t keep worrying that some masked man might come through my window. Derek and Robert were around long before this week, and now neither one is a threat.”
“They’re not why you want to kick me out.”
“I’m not kicking you out. You’re staying at the lodge. I live here. If you were my guest, that’d be different. Besides, my couch is lumpy and short.”
“I managed fine.”
“I haven’t vacuumed in days. The dog hair’s piling up.”
“Keep talking. Maybe you’ll convince yourself.”
She sat next to him in the dark. The car hadn’t had a chance to warm up on the short drive back from her brother’s house. “You think this is about you?”
“No,” Nick said. “It’s about you. You’re not sure you want a man in your life right now. You like living alone on your hill with a dog.”
“Dogs are easier than men.”
But he was serious and so was she. She was distancing herself, and he thought she knew it. She stared at her house, dark but for a light in the entry.
“I have to regroup,” she said.
“At least let me check inside first,” Nick said.
She nodded. “Sure.”
He followed her up the front steps, noting the shape of her hips, remembering her legs wrapped around him as she’d pulled him deeper into her, clawed at him in the throes of her climax.
Not good, he thought. He should do some distancing of his own.
Ranger barely stirred from his bed by the fire when Rose entered the house. He certainly wasn’t alarmed at Nick’s presence.
She went to the stove, grabbed the poker and stirred the fire. “Nick.” Her voice was hoarse, soft. “I’m used to being around intense, masculine men, but you—damn. Now it does feel as if I’m kicking you out.”
He slipped an arm around her and turned her to him. “I’ll take the poker,” he said with a smile, setting it on the hearth. He kissed her on the forehead. “It’s been a long day. Neither of us wants a repeat of last June. That worked out great on some levels but not others.”
“I’m as attracted to you as I was then. I can’t help myself.”
He grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He tucked his finger under her chin and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Sleep well.” He winked at her. “Lock your doors.”
Headlights shone down on the driveway. Rose frowned and went to the window. “It’s Jo and Elijah.” She glanced back at Nick. “You knew. That’s why you’re being so cooperative.”
Nick was amused. “A.J. might have said something to me.”
“Coconspirators,” she muttered.
She opened the front door for her brother and his fiancee. Elijah struck Nick as being more like Rose than either A.J. or Sean, but the Camerons were all down-to-earth hard-asses who loved the mountains and their small hometown.
Jo looked every inch the Secret Service agent she was. She and Elijah were grim and circumspect. “We thought we’d stay here tonight,” Jo said to Rose. “It still smells like smoke down at the lake.”
Elijah patted Ranger and looked at his only sister. “I’ll sleep out here on the couch. Jo can take the futon in your office.”
Nick smiled to himself. No way were Jo and Elijah sharing a bedroom under Rose’s nose. It was a question of sensibility and nothing else—Nick was sure of that much.
Elijah went with him down to the driveway. “You want to give me your gut on what’s going on?” he asked, his tone a sharp reminder of his experience as a Special Forces soldier.
He was falling in love with Rose? Nick smiled to himself, imagining where that would get him. He pulled open his car door, the lights of the lodge visible in the distance. “Jasper Vanderhorn was on the right trail. He wasn’t crazy, and he wasn’t wrong.”
“You think whoever he was after hooked up with Lowell Whittaker.”
“A paid assassin who is also a firebug,” Nick said. “Not a good combination.”
Elijah was silent a moment, thoughtful. “All right. See you in the morning.” His eyes narrowed on Nick. “Jo and I will take good care of Rose.”
“Just don’t tell her that,” Nick said with a small grin, and climbed into his car.
Twenty-Two
J o and Elijah were up early. Rose didn’t have to tiptoe past her brother. He hadn’t lasted on the couch and had moved to the floor. She had no doubt he’d slept fine. He was a Special Forces soldier and could sleep anywhere. Jo ducked in the shower while Rose made coffee. “You two—”
“We’re not talking about Jo and me,” Elijah said.
Rose smiled, filling the pot with water. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m not a ‘sir.’” Her brother moved out of her way as she turned from the sink. “Rose, what’s with Nick Martini? He’s a rich smoke jumper. What the hell’s he doing here? With you?”
“We’re not talking about Nick and me,” she said lightly, throwing his own words back at him.
Elijah scowled at her.
She dumped the water in the coffeemaker. “He and Sean have been friends for ten years. Sean trusts him.”
“With you?”
“Just because I messed up with Derek doesn’t mean I can’t be trusted to make up my own mind about men.”
“Who are you trying to convince?”
“No one. I imagine Nick will be heading back to California soon, so you can forget what you’re thinking.” She opened a cupboard, remembered she was out of coffee, and shut the cupboard again, abandoning her task. “I don’t have anything for breakfast. I meant to go grocery shopping yesterday.”
