Shoulda Been a Cowboy, page 8
Ethan relished the prospect of that much time with Caroline and silently thanked Eileen for providing him the opportunity. He’d need to work fast, though, with Caroline bent on leaving. He glanced up to find Rand observing him closely.
“I won’t gain weight with all the work I need to do around this place,” he said quickly and turned to the stack of boxes he’d yet to unpack. “Now, which one has the plates?”
“Forget plates.” Rand grabbed a roll of paper towels off the counter. “These’ll do fine. Help yourself to pizza. Fresh from the freezer to Lillian’s oven to you.”
Ethan selected a slice of pizza smothered with melted cheese and pepperoni. “I guess delivery pizza is one of the sacrifices of country living.”
“Yeah, but it’s worth it.” Rand straddled a chair, took a bite of pizza, chewed and swallowed. “I feel ten years younger since leaving the city. Life’s slower here, the people friendlier. It’s easier to keep your priorities straight.” He dug into the paper sack he’d set on the table and pulled out a six-pack of longneck Coronas and a lime. “And the right libation helps the process.”
Ethan opened the nearest box and searched for a knife to slice the lime. “Great beer and pizza. Nothing wrong with your priorities.”
LATER, SITTING WITH Rand on the back porch and listening to the Yankees-Red Sox game on the radio, Ethan swatted a mosquito and raised the question he’d been itching to ask all evening. “So, have you known Caroline long?”
Rand, his face illuminated by the light streaming from the kitchen window, raised an eyebrow. “I met her last year while she was working for Eileen. Why?”
Ethan shrugged, unwilling to divulge how Caroline had fascinated him from the first moment he’d seen her. “Just wondering what kind of landlady she’ll be.”
“Caroline is as sweet-tempered as they come,” Rand said with obvious approval, “although how Agnes Tuttle produced such a good-natured child is a miracle. Agnes is infamous for her sharp tongue and busybody meddling.”
“I met Mrs. Tuttle when I stayed at the bed-and-breakfast. She seemed nice enough.”
“Until you cross her. I’m sure she gave Caroline hell for abandoning her.”
“Abandoning? By moving out? Caroline’s a grown woman and Agnes looks like the type who can take care of herself.”
Rand stretched his long legs in front of him, crossed them at the ankle, and took a slow drink from his longneck. “Agnes uses illness as an excuse to keep Caroline at her beck and call. No wonder her only daughter wants to move to the other side of the country. That’s the only way she’ll get away from her mother.”
“Caroline does seem enthralled by all things Western,” Ethan said. “I caught a look at her book collection when I was unloading boxes for her yesterday. Zane Grey, Louis L’ Amour, Larry McMurtry. And lots of videos of westerns. She must like cowboys.”
“Which reminds me.” Rand reached behind him and tugged an envelope from his back pocket. “Thought you might want these. A client gave them to me, but Brynn and I have plans for that evening already. Maybe you can get Caroline to go with you.”
Ethan took the envelope and extracted four tickets to a rodeo at the Bi-Lo Center in Greenville. Rand’s gesture was generous, but Ethan wasn’t sure he wanted to fan the flames of Caroline’s obsession. “Thanks.”
Rand must have heard the hesitation in his tone. “You like rodeos?”
“Don’t know. Never attended one.”
But, on second thought, maybe the rodeo wasn’t such a bad idea after all. If he could make headway with Caroline, he’d gladly sit through an opera, even though he hated the art form, so a rodeo would be a piece of cake by comparison. But taking her to a rodeo could backfire, sharpening her appetite for moving west and accelerating her timetable. What Ethan really wanted was to persuade her to remain in the valley. He needed time. Not for himself. All the time in the world wouldn’t change his mind. Or his heart. He’d known from the day he met her that Caroline was the woman for him. He wanted her in his life, every day, for as long as he lived. But so far Caroline appeared oblivious to him, except for her awareness of her obligation to feed him twice a day. He wanted time to make her fall in love with him. Then, if she still wanted to leave the valley, he’d take her back to Baltimore. Hell, he’d even move out west with her.
How can you ask Caroline to share your life when you’re a walking disaster?
But he didn’t intend to remain an emotional wreck. He’d come to the valley to pull himself together. Caroline provided a great incentive to overcome the trauma that had devastated him.
“Hannah will be here by then,” Rand observed, nodding at the rodeo tickets. “Maybe you could take her and Daniel, too. Give the kids a chance to be together.”
“Great idea. Thanks.”
Ethan was counting on Hannah. If the little girl was as lovable as her picture portrayed, Caroline would be a goner once she met the child. Ethan was hoping Hannah would win Caroline’s heart, make her reluctant to turn the little girl over to someone else, and cause Caroline to delay her departure. Because the longer Caroline remained at Blackberry Farm, the more time Ethan would have to…to what? How could he make her fall for him?
He needed time and he needed patience. And he needed somehow to figure out what the hell he was doing.
THE MORNING AFTER Rand’s visit, Ethan still didn’t have a plan to capture Caroline’s interest. He’d spent another night filled with terrors and flashbacks and awoke determined to conquer the demons that had haunted him all night. Staying busy was his best weapon.
Standing on the back porch with his morning coffee in hand, he surveyed the backyard of Orchard Cottage. An unsightly compost heap, head-high and covered with scraggly weeds, occupied one side of the picturesque barn and marred the rustic beauty of his view. As soon as he’d had breakfast, he’d clear the area, start another compost pile out of sight of the back porch, and prepare the leveled site to plant spring bulbs come fall. As a child, he’d helped his mother in her garden, and she’d taught him well. With a little effort, he could turn not only Orchard Cottage but also its surroundings into a showplace.
And the physical activity would keep him from remembering and help him think of what to do about Caroline.
Breakfast could wait, he decided. He downed his coffee, set his cup on the rail and headed to the barn to search for a wheelbarrow and shovel.
SATURDAY MORNING, Caroline sat at the kitchen table. Sunlight streamed through the east window, a cup of her favorite tea steamed at her elbow and the melodies of songbirds were the only sounds that broke the peaceful stillness. Caroline, however, didn’t feel peaceful. Now that she’d made the break with her mother, she itched to continue her journey. She’d moved west, she thought with a wry smile, but only by ten miles. She had a long way to go to fulfill her dreams.
But first she had to fulfill her obligations to Eileen. She stared at the blank pad and pencil on the table. She’d intended to make a list of prospective foster parents for Hannah, but she had come up with only one name, Amy Lou Baker, owner of the Hair Apparent. A middle-aged widow with a good heart, Amy Lou had a lot of love to give, but not much time. Her beauty shop was open six days a week and kept her busy. And Caroline had no idea if Amy Lou would want the responsibility of a nine-year-old.
After Amy Lou, Caroline had drawn a blank. Times in the valley were tough, what with record-high gasoline prices and an economic slowdown. Most families she considered as foster parents were farmers, scratching to make ends meet. Even with social services providing support checks for Hannah, taking in another child would cause a financial burden. And those who owned businesses in town were short on time and funds, as well. Ironically, thanks to Eileen’s sizable stock portfolio, Caroline herself was the best candidate for fostering Hannah. She had the time and the means. All she lacked was the inclination.
Although lacking inclination wasn’t entirely true. Hannah’s picture, propped against the sugar bowl, stared at her with big, sad eyes. The child obviously needed lots of love, attention and care. Her father had deserted her, her mother had died, the woman who’d wanted to take her in had also died, and now Caroline was preparing to give her away. Poor kid, shuffled from pillar to post. She probably felt as if nobody gave a damn. And here Caroline was, trying as hard as she could to hand her off to someone else.
But Hannah didn’t know Caroline, she assured herself, so surely the little girl wouldn’t feel rejected, not if Caroline could find someone who’d give her a loving home. The problem was, who? She stared at the pad with the solitary name at the top, but it provided no answers.
The noise of a vehicle on the cottage road dragged her from her thoughts. She threw down her pencil and strode to the front porch as Ethan’s truck came to an abrupt stop in her driveway.
He jumped from the cab and sprinted up the front walk. A man in a hurry, he moved with fluid grace and unmistakable purpose, a sight that took her breath away, even though his hair was mussed and his clothes were covered with dirt. As he came closer, she noted that his face was flushed, and concern filled his hazel eyes.
“You’d better call the police,” he said before he reached her.
“What’s wrong?”
He mounted the stairs two at a time and stood at arm’s length from her. The odor of male sweat mixed with rich loam reached her nostrils, a not unpleasant scent that made concentration on what he was saying difficult.
He shook his head, as if in disbelief. “You don’t find something like that every day.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A body.”
Now he had her complete attention. “A body? Where?”
He looked her in the eye, his expression grim. “Buried beneath the compost heap beside the barn at Orchard Cottage. And from the looks of it, it’s been there a long time.”
Chapter Seven
“Are you sure it’s human?” Caroline couldn’t believe her ears. “If it’s beside the barn, maybe somebody buried a farm animal, like a pig or a cow.”
“It’s human all right, unless folks around here are accustomed to putting clothes on deceased animals,” Ethan said with a grimace.
His answer shook her. Unexplained dead bodies were as rare as hen’s teeth in the valley. To know he’d found one on property she now owned was incredible. “You don’t have a phone?”
“I have a cell, but it’s not an emergency call, so I didn’t want to use 911. Do you know the administrative number?”
“It’s listed in the phone book.” Stunned by his claim, she could only stare at him.
He glared at her with obvious impatience. “Can I borrow your directory, then?”
She snapped into action. “Not necessary. I’ll make the call.”
Ethan waited on the front porch, refusing to track the dirt that caked his work boots inside. Caroline raced to the phone in the hallway, checked the directory beneath it, and punched in the number of the Pleasant Valley Police Department.
Todd Leland, the dispatcher, answered.
“This is Caroline Tuttle at Blackberry Farm. My new tenant tells me he’s unearthed a body at Orchard Cottage.”
“Is it human?”
“Yes, and he says it looks as if it’s been buried a long time.”
Todd informed her that Lucas Rhodes was on patrol nearby and would arrive at her place shortly. “And don’t touch anything before he gets there.”
With questions buzzing like deer flies in her brain, Caroline returned the handset to its cradle. She didn’t know what Ethan had touched or exactly where he’d found the body or even why he’d been digging.
She stepped outside to find him pacing on the front porch. “Lucas Rhodes is on his way.”
Ethan raised his eyebrows in question.
“He’s a police officer.”
“Good.” He stopped pacing, leaned against the balustrade, and crossed his arms over his chest. “So we wait.”
Even covered in dirt, he looked enticing with his muscular biceps, flat stomach and trim hips. Too enticing for comfort. Caroline removed herself from temptation to the swing at the other end of the porch and took a seat. “Exactly where did you find this body?”
“On the east side of the barn under the compost heap.”
“Under? You were digging under the compost pile?”
“I was moving it.”
“Why?”
Her question seemed to make him uncomfortable. “It was an eyesore. I’m planning to plant spring bulbs there in the fall. Thought I’d get the ground ready now.”
Lord help her. What was more appealing than a one hundred percent male who planted flowers? She shook off the thought that was bound to lead her into trouble and concentrated on the practical. “It’s almost ninety degrees. Why didn’t you wait for cooler weather?”
“I don’t mind the heat.”
Of course not, you idiot. He’s a former firefighter, after all.
She pressed her lips together to keep from grinding her teeth. What was it about Ethan that activated her hormones while simultaneously disengaging her brain?
“Who was the last person to live at Orchard Cottage?” he asked.
Caroline thought for a moment. “No one’s lived there for more than fifteen years. Eileen used to have a tenant who managed the orchards, but the Mauneys have taken care of the apple crops for years now.”
“Do you remember the tenant’s name? The police will want to know.”
She shook her head. “It’s probably in Eileen’s records. There’s an old secretary in the corner of the parlor filled with ledgers and notebooks. I’ll go look.”
But before she could enter the house, a cloud of dust lifted near the highway and the sound of tires on gravel announced the arrival of Lucas Rhodes. Within minutes, a black SUV with a light bar on the roof and the shield of the Pleasant Valley Police Department on the doors turned off the road onto the driveway.
Lucas parked beside Ethan’s truck, climbed out and came up the walk. Tall with rugged good looks, high cheekbones that suggested a hint of Cherokee ancestry and piercing green eyes, Lucas in his crisply starched dark green uniform was the epitome of the handsome lawman, but his attractive face was grim as he approached. Handsome as he was, Caroline noted that he didn’t make her pulse flutter like Ethan did.
She and Ethan descended the porch steps and met Lucas halfway up the farmhouse walk, and Caroline introduced the officer to her tenant.
“What’s this about a body?” Lucas fixed his gaze on Ethan and narrowed his eyes with suspicion.
“It’s at Orchard Cottage,” Caroline said.
Ethan nodded. “I found it while I was digging in the compost heap. Body is a misnomer. I guess skeleton is a better word. It’s apparently been there a good while.”
Lucas keyed the mike of the radio clipped at his shoulder. “I’m at Blackberry Farm and going to check out the unidentified body at Orchard Cottage. Contact the sheriff’s crime scene unit and the coroner and have them meet me there.”
“Ten-four,” Todd’s voice sounded from the radio’s speaker. “You need any backup?”
“Negative. I’ll secure the crime scene and wait for the forensics techs and the coroner.”
Lucas turned to Caroline. “Any guess who might be buried there?”
She shook her head.
Lucas keyed his mike again. “Check local missing persons records going back several decades and get me a list of names.”
“Ten-four,” Todd answered.
“The cottage has been empty a long time. Maybe it was a drifter, a vagrant,” Caroline said.
Lucas lifted one corner of his mouth in a lopsided grin. “And he buried himself?”
“Good point.” Caroline felt like smacking herself. Ethan’s proximity—dirt, sweat and all—still had her brain out of commission.
Lucas turned to Ethan. “You’re the guy who knows where the body’s buried. How about leading the way?”
“Sure. Just follow my truck.”
“I’m coming, too,” Caroline said.
“You can ride with me,” Lucas offered.
She nodded and watched Ethan sprint to his pickup and hop in. The former firefighter was working a spell on her. The sooner she could leave the valley, the better. She’d waited too many years for her ranch to allow any man, no matter how desirable, to slow her down now.
AT ORCHARD COTTAGE, Ethan parked in front of the barn and waited for Lucas and Caroline to join him before he rounded the corner and led them to the gaping hole near the bottom of the compost heap.
Lucas surveyed the scene. “Why were you digging here?”
“Clearing the site for planting,” Ethan said. “Got tired of looking from the back porch at a mountain of weeds.”
Lucas approached the hole, knelt on his haunches and gazed in. Over the cop’s shoulder, Ethan could see the bones, stained the color of strong tea, which had brought an abrupt end to his excavation. Even while studying the grisly scene, he experienced a tingle of awareness of Caroline beside him, her quick intake of breath when she spotted the body, the fragrance of her wisteria shampoo mixing with the aroma of rich loam and the scent of honeysuckle growing on a nearby fence.
“Once I recognized the skull and realized these were human remains,” Ethan said, “I quit digging. Figured the police would want to do the rest.”
“Good thinking,” the officer said, not taking his eyes off the darkened bones and scraps of cloth that clung to them.
“Of course,” Ethan added, “by then I’d already shifted the majority of the compost to the other side of the barn. Sorry if I’ve moved any evidence.”
“How long do you think it’s been there?” Caroline asked.
She seemed perfectly calm, except for the slight tremor in her voice and the pallor of her perfect complexion that emphasized the brilliant sky blue of her eyes. Ethan fought against the impulse to lace his fingers through hers to give her hand a comforting squeeze.
Lucas shrugged and shook his head. “The coroner will have to figure out the time line.”
He stood, returned to the SUV and withdrew a roll of yellow tape. With practiced efficiency, he began cordoning off the yard alongside the barn where the compost heap had been, as well as the area where Ethan had moved the dirt to the other side of the barn.
