Crossing Nevada. Jeannie Watt

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      CHAPTER FOUR

      THE ENCOUNTER WITH the trespassing girls had left Tess feeling edgy and unsettled. She tried to go back to her internet search, but eventually gave up and sketched, which she usually enjoyed more than being reminded of how hard it was going to be to earn a living. But today not so much. Her eye was off, the designs lackluster. She finally tossed the pad aside and told the dogs it was time for a walk. She needed to move.

      Who was she kidding? Moving wouldn’t solve anything. What she needed was someone to talk to, someone to pour out her mishmash of fears and concerns to. Someone to ask for advice.

      But she had no one, so physical activity would have to suffice. A car on the county road slowed as she approached her field and Tess automatically froze in place, even though she recognized the car as the one driven by the dark-haired woman who lived at the ranch across the road. The wife of the cowboy who’d wanted to lease the pasture, no doubt. The rather fine-looking cowboy.

      Tess touched her injured cheek, then lowered her hand, closed her fingers. There’d be no men in her immediate future—fine-looking or otherwise—and not because her face was ugly. Tess would be alone because her life was ugly.

      As soon as the car turned into the driveway opposite her own, Tess climbed through the fence. Her path was always the same—across the field on the other side of her driveway, the one the cowboy had wanted to lease, and toward the mountains that flanked the west side of the valley. Once in the field, she was far enough away from the roads to feel safe, so she allowed the dogs to run. Heaven knew they spent enough time cooped up in the house with her. They needed the opportunity to stretch their legs, run and do dog stuff.

      Tess walked through the knee-deep grass, the breeze at her back. The sun was starting to sink behind the mountains, casting long rays across the valley and enveloping her in golden light. A couple of months ago she might have closed her eyes and raised her face to enjoy the warmth of the rays on her skin. Let her cares go. Of course, a couple months ago she also walked fearlessly wherever she wanted, within reason. Being raised as she’d been, in a tough neighborhood where one learned to watch their back, Tess had felt as if she could handle anything.

      Well, she’d been wrong. She hadn’t been able to handle a surprise attack in the parking area of her apartment building.

      Tess continued across her field until she came to the boundary fence. The dogs were already hunting in the field on the other side, so she lifted the top barbwire strand and eased through the fence.

      The sun sank lower, deepening the gold cast of the light. Deep purple shadows stretched toward her from the base of the mountain. It would be dark soon, but Tess continued to walk until she came to the very center of the field of tall grass and there she stood, the wind ruffling her hair, and watched the last sliver of the sun disappear behind the mountains.

      Was this the way her life would continue? Standing alone in the middle of nowhere? A study in solitude?

      Until Eddie screwed up and went back to prison, yes.

      Tess grabbed a handful of grass and yanked, twisting the blades around her hand before she turned into the wind and called the dogs to start for home. Detective Hiller didn’t know Eddie like she did. Yeah, he might be working at the car wash and showing up for his meetings, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have someone looking for her. She’d never known Eddie to give up, but she had known him to do some sadistic things. One guy had tried to encroach on his territory shortly before she’d run away and Eddie had not only beat the crap out of him—he’d arranged to have the guy’s trailer house torched while he was doing it.

      Because of all the chemicals inside, the house had practically vaporized and the newspaper account had mentioned how fortunate it was that the owner hadn’t been home. Tess’s mouth twisted at the thought. Eddie had gotten such a kick out of that. He’d torn the article out and taped it to the fridge.

      The clouds hung low and dark on the southeastern horizon, flat-bottomed and threatening as Tess headed across the field to the safety of her house. Walking toward the sunny mountains, she hadn’t realized how quickly the storm had been moving in. When she reached the fence to her property she climbed through, then called the dogs again. Blossom shot past her, scooting under the wire before she stopped to grin at her, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. Tess looked back and saw Mac hot on the trail of some small animal.

      “Mac! Get over here! Hier!”

      The dog reversed course and headed toward Tess at a dead run. Halfway to the fence he gave a startled yelp as he disappeared into the tall grass. Less than a second later he reappeared, bounding up, and continued racing toward her.

      Tess crouched down as the dog approached, ruffling the fur on either side of his neck when he obediently sat in front of her. His side was covered with moist dirt, which she brushed off. He must have fallen into a ditch or a hole hidden by the grass. Unseen danger. Exactly what she was trying to avoid.

      “Let’s go home,” she said, and the dogs trotted ahead of her. Mac limped slightly. He kept up with Blossom, but his head bobbed up and down as he moved, making Tess wonder just how badly he’d hurt himself. The next time she walked, she’d keep the dogs closer and stay out of that part of the field.

      A lightning bolt danced along the distant mountains as Tess mounted her porch steps. Another thunderstorm. Just what she needed to add to her unsettled mood.

      The low rumble of thunder was followed by a gust of warm wind that lifted her hair as she unlocked the door. Once upon a time she’d loved thunderstorms.

      Not so much anymore.

      * * *

      “COME ON, ELIZABETH. You’re not afraid of thunder.” Zach snapped on the light in his daughter’s tiny second-story bedroom as he walked inside. It was the third time she’d called him in the past hour. The first time she’d said the thunder bothered her, but he wasn’t buying it since she usually had her nose pressed to the window, watching the lightning. The second time she’d asked him to lower the blinds.

      So was this an attention-getting device? Did she just want some company? Whichever it was, Zach’s patience was growing thin. He was tired.

      “It’s not the thunder,” Lizzie admitted in a small voice. A low rumble punctuated her words.

      “Then what is it?” he asked softly.

      “Trespassing.”

      “Trespassing? What about it?” СКАЧАТЬ