Everywhere She Goes

Right now, she was feeling something of the same choking sense of anxiety.

A muscle ticked beneath Colin’s eye. “I may have to meet this Hegland.”

She seemed to have quit breathing. “You look like Dad right now.”

“I don’t look anything like him,” he said in a low growl. But he did. He did. Dad’s face had always been so flushed when he lost his temper, worse when he’d had too much to drink, of course. Right now, dark color suffused Colin’s face and tendons stood out in his forearms. His hand had fisted around his bread knife.

Just like Daddy’s.

“Yes, you do.” She bent her head so she didn’t have to see him. Oh, God. This was what she’d felt every time Blake started to get mad.

“Colin, you’re scaring her,” Nell said softly. When Cait sneaked a worried peek, she saw that her sister-in-law had laid a hand on Colin’s arm. He’d turned his head and was looking at her.

After a minute, during which Cait didn’t dare move, he said, “Cait.” His voice was gruff but also somehow gentle. “I know what you saw back then, but I’m not like Dad. I’ve never wanted to be anything like him. I fought with him to keep you and Mom safe, but I’m not a violent man.”

She looked up to find him regarding her ruefully.

“Seeing you look scared of me,” he said, “that’s one of the worst things you could do to me.” He made a rough sound in his throat. “I would never hurt you.”

She gave a quick little nod, and, after a moment, he answered it with one of his own.

“All right,” he said.

Embarrassed at her over-the-top reaction—could she call it a past life regression?—she told him she was sorry. Colin insisted she had nothing to be sorry for.

Nell interceded by getting them talking about something else, and later, when they were alone in the kitchen, she apologized to Cait for mentioning Jerry.

“No, it’s all right. I just had this sort of flashback.” Cait even managed a small laugh. “The perils of coming home.”

“Which I fully understand.” Nell bumped her shoulder against Cait’s. “You should go figure out what you’re going to wear tomorrow.”

“Oh, boy.” New anxiety instead of anticipation, and Cait didn’t even know why. Because this was Angel Butte? Because, in running away from Blake, she’d made a sharp right turn in her life? Or because she would be seeing Noah Chandler at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow, and had no idea why he made her feel so edgy?

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN NOAH AND Cait walked into Chandler’s Brew Pub, a host rushed to greet them, and what other employees Cait could see were suddenly very busy. Cait would have been more amused if she didn’t now work for him, too.

He’d been nothing but agreeable all morning, from the minute he had walked her to her new office. After barely giving her a chance to glance around, he’d hustled her back out so he could introduce her to half the people who worked for the city. Within an hour, names were running together in her head. Perhaps seeing that her smile was growing strained, he had decided to drive her around in his truly enormous SUV so she could see ongoing projects.

“I’d like to take you to lunch,” he had then declared.

She felt a flutter in her chest at the idea of having to look at him over a table for an hour and make conversation. She found herself wishing he was married, maybe had a couple of kids she could ask about. Knowing he was single was part of what had her on edge.

Noah Chandler was an incredibly sexy man despite the fact that he was the next thing to homely. Or maybe that wasn’t it, she’d found herself thinking as she stole glances at him while he drove. Colin had said he was an ugly bastard, but Cait couldn’t imagine any woman agreeing with that assessment. No, he only surprised her because, except for the very sharp blue eyes, he looked like a laborer, not a politician. He ought to be operating a forklift or heaving heavy loads in and out of trucks or railroad cars, not wearing a beautifully cut suit and running a city. She wondered how he kept that powerful physique. Certainly not by scowling at his computer monitor and hammering the keyboard, the way he’d been when she had stepped into his office that morning.

He wasn’t a physical type that had ever attracted her, for which Cait gave thanks. Surely she’d become inured to the intensity that seemed to be as much a part of him as his raspy voice and tendency to be abrupt when he forgot he was trying to give the impression he was an easygoing man.

They had barely been seated by the eager host when a pretty blonde waitress magically appeared with menus. She wore a tight little black skirt and a crisp white shirt that strained over generous breasts.

“Mr. Chandler,” she purred.

He glanced at her with scant interest and nodded. “Jess.”

Looking disappointed, Jess retreated with their drink orders, walking more like a model prowling a catwalk than a busy waitress.

Cait was mildly surprised that her new boss had asked for iced tea rather than a beer.

“You said you have three locations,” she said.

He hadn’t even opened his menu. “This was the first.” He looked around, as if appraising the place. “The one in Bend is the busiest. We have live bands playing three or four nights a week. Comedians do better than music in Sisters, for some reason. Here?” He shrugged. “The Friday-and Saturday-night crowd like entertainment. Otherwise, food and drinks seem to be the appeal.”

Curious despite herself, she had to ask, “You were so bored, you decided instead of expanding your business or finding a new hobby, you’d run for mayor?”

His grin gave her a few palpitations she should definitely ignore. Cait was a long way from even thinking about getting involved with a guy again, and if and when she ever did, she was looking for gentle, funny, intellectual. The reasons she’d always been drawn to domineering men were not subtle. Now that she’d faced them head-on, she would make better choices. All she had to do was remember her father. The terrifying fights he and Colin had had.

Blake.

Never again.

And even if she had been attracted to Noah Chandler, she now worked for him. Would, in fact, be working closely with him. So knock it off.

All that intensity was being trained on her right now, though, which made it hard. His eyes were a startling blue, especially considering his hair was dark.

“What’s good to eat?” she asked, hiding behind the menu.

He laughed. “Now, what do you expect me to say to that? Everything, of course. I usually have a burger or one of the potpies, but I’m thinking pizza today.”

They agreed to share one called “The Farm Kitchen” that had a delicious-sounding combination of roasted red peppers, black olives, artichoke hearts and more with a roasted garlic tomato sauce. Jess took their order of pizza and salads and again retreated, with a last, sulky glance over her shoulder.

“I think your waitress has a crush on you,” Cait observed.

His eyebrows climbed in surprise. “I can’t imagine. What is she, nineteen, twenty?”

“And you’re such an old man?” Oh, teasing him wasn’t smart. Professional, she reminded herself. Keep it professional.

“Thirty-five. Not quite old enough to be her father, but close enough.” Those vivid eyes stayed on her face. “Now that I’ve hired you, am I legally safe to ask how old you are?”

“Twenty-nine. The same age as Colin’s wife. Have you met her?”

“In passing. I’ve read plenty about her.”

Cait nodded. “It’s funny, because I remember her from third or fourth grade. Or maybe both. Do you think I’d recognize a single other kid from that long ago?”

His rough chuckle felt like a touch. “No? But I understand why you did. The paper printed plenty of pictures from when she was a kid and then when she appeared last year. Not much change.”

Cait laughed. “She claims to remember me, too, but I think she’s making it up.”

“What about you? How much have you changed?”