Page 7 of Mystery at Rescue Ridge (Rescue Ridge #5)

“A beer sounds good.” Owen didn’t like the idea of Evie being alone out here with no other houses within shouting distance if someone followed her.

Evie grabbed two from the fridge, handed one over, and motioned toward the back porch, where he saw two chairs. Before he could say a word, she gave a small headshake, closed the blinds on the sliding glass doors, and headed toward the living room.

He followed, opting for a chair rather than a spot next to her on the couch. Now that he knew someone had been following her, he wanted to know if it could be somehow related to her sister’s death. “Mind if I ask what happened to Simone?”

“SCD.”

“Which is?” He had no idea what the acronym meant.

“Sudden cardiac death. She collapsed in the garden while the children were inside napping.” Evie managed a calm monotone.

However, it looked to be taking some effort on her part.

“It can happen without warning, even in people with no previous heart problems.” She took a pull from the longneck bottle in her hand.

“Without immediate help, it’s deadly. My sister was working in the garden out back when it happened. ”

“And there was no sign of foul play?” Recent events within his family caused him to be suspicious of anything and everything until proven otherwise.

Evie shook her head. “None. The doctor said it’s rare for this to happen to young people, but it does happen.” She turned her face away after frowning.

He gave her a moment, not wanting to overstep his bounds if she needed time. Evie held emotions inside until they practically burst out of her, leaving her no choice but to express them.

“Sorry,” she said softly. She sniffled and then took in a deep breath. “To say these kids are unlucky is an understatement.”

“They have you.” He couldn’t let her discount herself like that. “Who else will care about their futures more than you, Evie?”

“Caring is one thing. Being present every single day to guide them and help them through all of life’s challenges is a whole other ball game.

” She brought her gaze to meet his. “I never saw myself in the white dress or having kids hanging off my arms.” She shivered, which made him hold back a smile.

The way she described parenthood wasn’t too far off from how he saw it.

Still, he was surprised she didn’t want anything to do with the institution.

“Any particular reason you don’t want a family?”

She shrugged. “I like to sleep in on Sunday mornings. Like, really sleep in. I don’t want to be bothered by anyone. I work long hours during the week, and then Saturdays are for the two Es.”

He shot her a confused look.

“Errands and exercise.”

“Thanks for the clarification,” he said with a smile.

“I go hard and basically don’t stop until I drop. Then, it’s food in front of the TV to catch up on my shows before a hot bath and then bed.”

Owen didn’t need the mental image of her naked in a bathtub stamping his thoughts right now. It did anyway.

“Sundays are lazy,” she continued. “At least, the mornings are. That’s when I get to sleep on fresh sheets and drink coffee while browsing online or reading, though surfing has seriously lost its appeal lately.” She shook her head again. “Too stressful.”

“Never was relaxing to me.” He was damn lucky if his cell battery wasn’t dead most of the time. The last thing he could see himself doing at night or first thing in the morning would be curling up to a laptop.

She studied him. “What’s that about?”

“What?” he asked.

“That frown?”

“I was picturing how uncomfortable it would be to have technology in the bedroom.” This time, he laughed.

“Didn’t think about it that way. But it’s a funny visual.” She smiled, and the mood lightened almost instantly.

“I’d end up breaking it,” he continued. “I’d roll over on it or some wild thing like that and, crunch, I’d break a thousand-dollar piece of technology.”

“Sounds about right,” she said, the smile widening. “Although I think laptops might cost more than that now.”

“Not mine. No, sir.” He motioned toward his cell. “Did you get a good gander at this dinosaur earlier?”

“I did.” The smile was gone now, but at least she wasn’t frowning. “How old is that?”

“I’ve had it for more than a decade.”

“How? I thought cell companies caused the batteries to die early when they wanted you to replace a phone.”

She had a point. He’d read that somewhere, too.

“Again, take a look over there. You’ll see that the battery is dead more than it’s alive.”

“Isn’t that dangerous out on the ranch property?” she asked.

“When I go out on the land, I’m usually out of cell range anyway,” he said. “I have no wife or kids who might need to reach me.” He didn’t intend for those words to come out like a pity party—party of one. “I’m good with it.” He added the last part a little too fast.

Evie’s eyebrow shot up. “I figured you would’ve been long married by now.” She sat up a little straighter and put out a hand, indicating she didn’t want him to comment. “You don’t have to respond to that. I’m out of line. Your personal life isn’t my business.”

He held up his left hand and lifted his ring finger so she could see for herself. “No band and no tan line. Meaning, I’ve never been married and, as far as I know, I don’t have any children running around out there that I don’t know about.”

“That you know about,” she said with a wink.

“It would be damn impossible for me to father a child, so, no, there are no little Owens running around without my knowledge.”

“How can you be so…” She seemed to catch herself. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” He’d always been medically able until he’d shut it down. “As far as I’m concerned, the world doesn’t need any more Beaumont Sturgesses running around, and I couldn’t risk that happening.”

Evie sucked in a breath.

“Are you saying what I think you are? That you got surgery to prevent unwanted pregnancies?”

“I sure did.”

After she picked her jaw up from the floor, she asked, “And you don’t think you’ll ever regret the… permanence of a decision like that one?”

“Me? No.” The snip-snip operation had the side benefit of ensuring he wouldn’t enter into a lasting relationship.

Evie took another pull of beer. “That’s a bold step, Owen. I’ll give you credit for that one. You knew what you wanted, or should I say what you didn’t want, and you made certain no mistakes were made. Gutsy move.”

“You’re not the only one who decided not to go down the traditional route.”

Why did those words suddenly feel hollow?

Was it because Evie would have made an amazing mother? Or was the image of her holding their newborn now stuck in his brain?

Before Evie could formulate a comeback, thunder cracked and the lights flickered. “Shit. The last thing I need is for one of the kiddos to wake up or for us to lose electricity.” After setting her beer on a coaster on the coffee table, she moved to the pantry in the kitchen to locate a flashlight.

A rolling thunder was followed by the place going dark.

Evie stepped on a toy—a tiny metal truck.

She hopped on one foot, drawing the hurt one up and holding onto it while muttering a string of curses.

What was it about the feet that was so sensitive?

Heaven’s sake, her feet carried her weight all day, had been stuffed into pointed-toed heels, and those things hadn’t taken her down.

But step on a toy, and she found every single nerve ending.

She hopped one step too far left and ran smack into the pantry door. The handle jabbed her in the kidney. Shit. Shit. Shit.

In the next second, Owen was by her side, steadying her as the lights flickered again. She turned to thank him and swore a shadow passed by the front window.

Heart racing, she suppressed a gasp and managed to say, “Someone’s outside.”

The wood on the front porch groaned underneath someone’s heavy foot. Was it a size eleven men’s?

“Stay low and lock the door behind me,” Owen whispered, his movements toward the kitchen door resembling the mountain lion’s easy grace. “You know our knock.”

Bump-ba-da-dump-bump. Dump-bump.

“Yes.”

“That’s what I’ll use when I want to come back inside.” With those words, he was gone.

Panic set in as she followed to lock the door behind him.

Evie could get herself out of the house if anything happened, but what about the kids?

When she’d heard an unsettling noise back in Dallas, all she had to worry about was getting herself to safety.

She’d felt alone. With kids in the house, she felt trapped.

One on each hip, she thought. She’d run out the door with one on each hip.

The car was parked outside. This old farmhouse wasn’t built with an attached garage like her Dallas apartment. She used to keep her keys inside her car underneath the seat in case of an emergency exit.

Didn’t Simone once mention something about locking up a handgun in a box in her closet?

Flashlight in hand, Evie crouched low and moved into her sister’s room.

The closet door was ajar. Without turning on a light, she went inside the closet and closed the door before stuffing a shirt into the space at the bottom to block out the light when she turned on the flashlight.

If Size Eleven—and she knew she’d seen someone!—was outside trying to find her, he wouldn’t be able to locate her easily.

Evie could stretch out her arms and touch each side of the closet.

It was three feet deep, and clothing covered her head and shoulders as she sat down.

Shoes blanketed the carpeted flooring. It had been too soon to empty the closet.

Evie couldn’t bring herself to box up her sister’s clothing.

Maybe Olivia would want the remnants to remind her of her mother.

The small room smelled of lilies and citrus, Simone’s favorite soaps and perfume.

A few hot tears pricked the backs of Evie’s eyes. She focused and sniffed them away. After blinking a couple of times, she felt around for the box. Found it.

Her thoughts shifted to Owen as she listened for sounds of gunfire or a struggle.

The key to the metal gun box was taped to the bottom.

She ripped off the tape and, with shaky hands, managed to put the key in the hole.

A click later, the box opened. It dawned on her that she had zero experience with a weapon like this other than watching cop shows, which she’d stopped doing years ago because they’d given her nightmares while living alone.

The thought of living in her childhood home with two young kids wasn’t exactly comforting.

Shifting focus back to the gun, she checked to see if there were bullets.

The bottom was open, and the clip at the bottom of the box fit nicely.

Satisfied she wasn’t completely incompetent, she turned off the flashlight and scrambled to her feet.

Weapon in one hand, she opened the door, then managed to close it with her elbow.

The flashlight was off so as not to draw unwanted attention as she moved through the home.

Owen wanted her to stay low and out of harm’s way. She understood his reasoning. However, his life might be in danger. There might be a real threat outside these walls. She wouldn’t be able to face herself in the mirror if anything happened to him while he was trying to help her.

The blinds were drawn on the glass doors leading to the patio in back. They were vertical and swayed every time the A/C came on. Lucky for her, it was a cool night.

Could she move to the front window instead? Owen had left out the back door so he could sneak around to the porch where the boards had creaked moments ago. Was he making his way around the house? He’d known this place like the back of his hand once. Did he still remember the layout?

The lack of movement or noise from outside was unsettling. Had Owen been jumped? Was he unconscious? Being dragged to a vehicle? Stabbed?

No. Nothing could happen to him. Evie couldn’t let herself worry that he couldn’t handle himself. If anything, he would be surprising the intruder, not the other way around.

Heart racing, pounding in her throat, she slipped next to the window and risked a peek outside.

Nothing.

It was too soon to exhale. Too soon to believe she’d imagined the silhouette of a man almost gliding past the door.

A hard metal piece landed on top of her foot with a thud. Evie bit back the urge to yelp. The surprise, as well as the shot of pain, nearly caused her to cry out, giving away her location. Not the move, Ashworth.

She crouched down to pick up the clip, ignoring the pain, and then tried for a second time to secure the magazine.

A click sounded this time. She hadn’t heard that before. That had to be good. Right?

She held the weapon in the air to test the theory that she’d nailed it this time. The clip didn’t fall out, which she decided was a huge success.

One problem down. One to go. The intruder.

The sudden wailing sound from the bedroom had her bolting toward the kids’ room instead.