Page 18 of Fatal Deception
But he figured she’d done enough. “Don’t worry about this, I’ll finish. Why don’t you go on up to bed? I’ve got my computer in my car. I’m going to grab it and see if Morris sent me the report. I can work from out here for a bit.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
Even though the automatic dismissal grated, he saw it for what it was. Knee-jerk. Not abouthimmost of the time. Maybe it was incomprehensible to him that she lived out here all on her own—or with her sister or cousins, though he saw no evidence they were big parts of theranchlife Audra had going on. But it was her life, and she was simply used to handling things on her own.
“How about this? We make an agreement. You stop telling me I don’thaveto do things, and I won’t have to waste my breath telling you not to waste yours. I’m not going anywhere if you’re not. Not until we find the shooter.”
She didn’t say anything for a few humming moments. He knew she waged some kind of war with temper, and he didn’t think temper was a usual part of her life, but what did he know?
Not a damn thing about her, and that was just fine.
You know she can bake bread, hasn’t dated in four years, holds too much on her shoulders, smells like lilacs at the strangest times. Dead dad, annoying sister. Expressive blue eyes a shade you can’t quite match to anything.
“I’ll make some breakfast,” she finally said, saving him from the ridiculous turn of his thoughts.
“You need to get some rest.”
She shook her head. “I’m starving. I’ve got some stuff already prepared. Just need to warm it up and get the coffee on.”
“Alright. I’ll finish this.”
He watched her hesitate. No doubt she wanted to do it all on her own. Hell, he should let her. It was none of his business if she wanted to work herself into an early grave.
But after that moment of hesitation, she walked away and went inside. Copeland finished taping up the plastic cover. He collected the tools, figuring he might as well get some breakfast before he grabbed his laptop and got to work, but as he turned, he stopped.
In the east, the sun rose. He was frozen to the bone, and yet he couldn’t quite force himself to go inside. The sky was a riot of colors as the light reached up its bright fingers and shimmered, changing the sky from night to day in an awe-inspiring display of pure beauty.
He’d seen his share of natural beauty since moving to Wyoming, even back home in Denver. The mountains. Sunrises and sunsets. The West was full of pretty landscapes he’d spent his entire life seeing.
But this was something else. Less a landscape and more a vibrancy that seemed to pull at something deep inside of him. It was strangely poignant, a feeling he couldn’t quite ever remember settling over him, and he was afraid if he inspected that feeling too deeply, it’d be something too close tobelonging. When he hadn’t moved to Bent County—the middle of nowhere—tobelong. In fact, quite the opposite.
So he turned away from the pretty sunrise that wasjusta sunrise. Same as the sun rising anywhere else. There were mountains in plenty of places. Nothing special about these.
He headed inside, following the smells of coffee and cinnamon into the kitchen.
It was very nearly warm in here. Maybe he could imagine taking off the coat she’d loaned him. Oh, in an hour or so.
It was some kind of strange homey picture, even with her bundled up against the cold. She moved around the kitchen withthe same efficient certainty she did everything. Her braid swung with each movement. She moved a pan of some kind of frosted roll onto the table.
“Sit. Eat,” she instructed. Two plates and two forks were already set out, and she moved back into the kitchen, pouring coffee into two mugs.
Thetwoof it all was really messing with his equilibrium. Because he’d been here before. Notherehere, but he had a whole other life of being atwo, and he’d moved here to leave it the hell behind.
Since he was feeling unmoored, he didn’t know what else to do but follow instructions. Besides, he was frozen and starving. Why not sit and eat? Audra wasn’t his ex-wife or anything else. They were no couple. So he should stop being an idiot.
He took a sip of coffee first, nearly closed his eyes and groaned in appreciation. Warmth. Caffeine. Then he helped himself to two giant, gooey cinnamon rolls.
After the first bite, he pointed his fork at her in accusation. “These did not come from a can.”
Her mouth curved, ever so slightly. “No, I make big batches from scratch, then freeze them. Then you just have to cook them and thaw the frosting.”
“There shouldn’t be ajustin that sentence. That’s got to be a ton of work. Far more work than separating a log of dough and tossing it on a pan.”
“Maybe, but the reward is worth the work. Besides, baking is fun. A hobby, I guess.”
“You would have a hobby that was probably more for other people than yourself.”
He could tell she didn’t like that observation by the way she scowled briefly before smoothing it out into that haughty, chin-in-the-air expression of hers.