Page 43 of Out of Time (Undaunted Courage #3)

TWENTY-FOUR

NATALIE WAS ACTING STRANGE.

As Steven finished the apple cobbler she’d baked for their Saturday night dessert, he gave her a surreptitious inspection across the silent table.

She was playing with her spoon, poking at her dessert but not eating it, twin grooves etched on her forehead.

Could she be feeling ill? Had she suffered another dizzy spell? Was she mulling over his suggestion that she sell this place and move to St. Louis?

Whatever the cause, her quietness was out of character. In general she kept the conversation flowing at a brisk pace while they ate their meals.

Not tonight.

It might behoove him to find out what was on her mind.

He finished chewing the tender crust on the cobbler, swallowed, and picked up his coffee mug. “Another excellent dinner, Natalie. You’ve spoiled me with these weekend feasts.”

The smile she gave him was subdued. “I like having someone to cook for. That’s another reason Cara’s presence has been such a joy this fall. She appreciates my food too, and I’m grateful for the companionship. Meals weren’t meant to be eaten alone.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

Instead of responding, she went back to playing with her dessert.

He quashed a sigh.

Apparently he’d have to be more direct if he wanted to get a read on her mood.

“You seem preoccupied tonight.”

“Do I?” She broke off a bite of cobbler with the edge of her spoon. “I’m sorry if I’ve put a damper on our dinner. I have a lot on my mind.”

“Understandable, with all the odd happenings around here in recent weeks.”

“That’s part of it, of course, but I’m also worried about you. You slept quite a bit yesterday, and again today.”

Because he wasn’t getting much shut-eye at night, thanks to his forays into the cave.

Not an excuse he could offer, but the cut on his forehead gave him a perfect out.

“This left me with a nagging headache.” He touched the bandage the sheriff had put on yesterday. “Sleeping helps. But there’s no need for you to fret. The cut will heal. I’m sorry if I haven’t been good company.”

“No apology necessary. I’m used to you working in your room or hiking around the property while you’re here.

Knowing you’re close by has always been a comfort in itself.

” She picked up a crumb from the tablecloth and set it on the edge of her plate.

“I know your injury will mend, but I’ve been wondering if you .

.. if there might be anything else wrong. ”

His pulse took an uptick.

Had she found out about his dire financial situation? Was it possible she’d heard about the drastic erosion in his client base? Did she know he was behind on multiple bills, had maxed out his credit cards, and that a collection agency was on his tail for his late BMW payments?

Impossible.

He’d kept all of his problems close to his vest.

Nevertheless, it was possible she’d gotten wind of a woe or two. Stranger things had happened.

But before jumping to any conclusions, it would be prudent to feel her out. See if she knew about any of his distressing secrets.

“Like what?” He kept his manner nonchalant.

She caught her lower lip between her teeth for a moment. “I don’t mean to pry, Steven, but when I straightened up your room yesterday, I found a bloody washcloth in the tub and a streak of blood on your pillow. I was concerned.”

What?

She’d been in his room?

His stomach bottomed out.

Truth be told, he hadn’t even noticed the bed was made when he got back. After everything that had happened since Thursday night, housekeeping had been the least of his concerns.

And he’d totally forgotten about the washcloth he’d pitched into the tub.

Somehow he held on to his placid expression as he kicked his brain into high gear and scrambled to come up with a credible response.

“It was from this, Natalie.” He tapped his temple again.

“When I laid down, the bandage came loose and the cut started to bleed again. It must have seeped around the edges of the bandage and onto the pillow. I’m sorry you had to deal with the mess. ”

The creases on her forehead reappeared. “But you didn’t lie down until you got back from the grocery store. I made the bed while you were gone.”

His heart stumbled.

Mistake, mistake, mistake!

Except ... his blunder could be an ideal opportunity to plant another seed of doubt about her mental capacity.

“I think you may have the sequence wrong, Natalie.” He used his most placating tone, underscored with a hint of concern. “I laid down for a few minutes before I left. Not long, but enough to put a dent in my headache.”

Confusion clouded her eyes. “That’s not how I remember it. I thought you left right away. As soon as I wrote out the list.”

“Not quite that fast. I laid down for about fifteen minutes. I imagine yesterday is a muddle for you, what with the early morning visit from the sheriff and the story he told, then your clumsy cousin almost knocking himself out in the basement.” He called up a solicitous smile.

The grooves on her brow deepened. “I’ve never gotten muddled.”

“You’ve never had to deal with masked intruders and kitchen fires and dizzy spells, either. Not to mention poor Micah.” He reached over and patted her hand. “Cut yourself some slack, Natalie. You’re not forty anymore.”

“No, but my mind has always been sharp.”

“I know. But I do think it’s important to face facts. Age takes a toll. I noticed an occasional mental lapse in Dad during his last few years too, and he was younger than you are.”

Natalie set her spoon down. “This is most disturbing.”

“I think you’re worrying too much. You had a stressful day yesterday. We both did. I’m sure it rattled you. I wouldn’t be concerned unless the lapses begin to happen more often.”

“I suppose not.” The curve of her mouth seemed strained. “Would you like more cobbler?”

“No, thank you.” He patted his stomach. “As it is, I’ll have to do an extra lap around the lake tomorrow to burn off all the calories from dinner. Why don’t I help you with the dishes tonight?”

She waved off his offer and stood. “Putting them in the dishwasher takes no effort. If you’ll help me carry them to the kitchen as usual, though, I’d appreciate it.”

“Always happy to assist.”

They went about the task in silence, and once all the dishes were piled by the sink, he faked a yawn.

Natalie took the cue. “Why don’t you lie down? You should take it easy until your head begins to heal.”

“If you don’t mind, I think I will. My temple is beginning to throb.”

“Go rest.” She shooed him away. “I don’t have any pressing duties to attend to this evening. The dishes will keep me occupied, and then I’ll crochet for a while. I may make it an early night too.”

“Thank you, Natalie. You’re the best.” He crossed to her and leaned close to press his lips to her forehead, holding his breath against the faint hint of gardenia that had been her distinctive, nauseating scent for as long as he could remember.

She squeezed his arm. “No, you ’re the best. I’ve been blessed by your faithfulness and devotion. Sleep well.”

Not likely. Very little slumber was on his agenda for this night.

But hopefully he could clock a few hours before he left for the cave.

“I hope you sleep well too. Are you going to church in the morning?”

“Yes. The eight o’clock Mass. You’re welcome to join me. You’d like Father Johnson.”

It was the same ritual they went through every Saturday night.

“Not this week, Natalie. But say a prayer for me.”

“Always. Good night.”

He left the kitchen and strolled down the hall to his room. Entered and shut the door. Stretched out on the bed.

Near as he could tell, Natalie had bought his story about the blood on the cloth and the pillow. Rather than doubt him, she’d begun to doubt herself.

It appeared all the glitches that had occurred in the past forty-eight hours were working in his favor.

But pushing his luck wouldn’t be wise. He needed to double down and find the treasure.

So he’d put in an extra hour or two tonight. And he’d come down early again next week, even if Cara would be on the premises and cameras would be in place. If he was careful, he could avoid both.

It wouldn’t be hard to fabricate an excuse for an extended visit.

All he had to do was say the blow to his head had taken more out of him than he’d thought and that a few quiet days would help him recuperate.

If pressed, he could claim he’d gone to urgent care and discovered he had a mild concussion.

Natalie would believe anything he told her.

And Cara shouldn’t be a problem. He could find his way to the cave without lights at night. She’d never spot him.

But the search was getting old, and the longer it went on, the higher the risk of someone discovering his activity.

So while he put zero stock in praying and far less in a God who’d never once bailed him out of any of the scrapes he’d gotten in, perhaps the cosmos would smile on him, lead him to the treasure, and bring this unhappy chapter in his life to an end.

COULD SHE BE LOSING IT?

As the clock inched toward three o’clock, Natalie tugged the covers up to her chin and wadded them in her fists.

The question that had been strobing through her mind ever since she went to bed, through all the hours she’d tossed and turned and stared at the dark ceiling, continued to plague her.

Was it possible her recollection of the sequence of events around Steven’s departure for the grocery store was off?

Yet she’d gone over and over it in her mind and kept coming up with the same scenario.

Steven had offered to do her grocery shopping for her.

While he’d gone to his room to collect his keys and wallet, she’d taken a quick inventory of the fridge and cabinets and written out a list. A mere eight items, the minimum she needed, so as not to burden him too much.

She’d finished writing the last item as he returned.

The whole process couldn’t have taken more than five minutes, max.

Yet he said it had been at least fifteen. Long enough for him to lie down and take a brief rest.