Avalanche Of Trouble. Cindi Myers
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for the right words—words that weren’t going to offend her, that would convey what he really meant. “You stand out from the crowd around here,” he said. “That’s not a bad thing.”
“You mean the blue hair,” she said.
“The blue hair. The attitude.”
“You think I have an attitude?” Her voice rose and she leaned toward him.
Gage bit back a groan. Yes, she had an attitude—a “don’t mess with me” vibe that shone through the grief and fatigue. “I didn’t say it was a bad attitude,” he said. “And hey, maybe I’m full of it. Ignore everything I said.”
“You’re not the kind of man a woman ignores, Deputy.”
The words jolted him. Was she flirting with him? But when he glanced her way, she was facing forward again, what he could see of her expression betraying nothing.
Mo’s Pub was the only place open this late, so Gage drove there. When they walked in the waitress showed them to a booth. “Any word on that lost little girl?” she asked as she distributed menus.
“Not yet,” Gage said.
“Tony was up there all afternoon with the search and rescue crew, and we’re all praying y’all find her soon. Poor little baby. She must be scared to death up there on her own.”
“This is Casey’s aunt, Maya Renfro,” Gage said. “This is Sasha Simpson.”
“You poor thing.” Sasha patted Maya’s shoulder. “You must be worried sick. They’re gonna find her, I’m sure of it. They won’t stop looking until they do.”
“Thanks.” Maya looked a little dazed as Sasha hurried away to wait on another table. “She sounded really worried—and she doesn’t even know me or Casey.”
“She has two little girls of her own,” Gage said. “And that’s the way people are around here. Everybody knows everybody and while it’s not exactly family, it’s something like it.”
“I can see how that would be appealing,” she said. “But a little claustrophobic at times, too. Sometimes I like not knowing anything about my neighbors.”
Sasha returned and took their orders. Maya ordered a salad, which he expected she wouldn’t eat, but she was drinking her soft drink, so that was something. “So what do you do in Denver besides teach English?” he asked.
“I do poetry slams.”
Again, not what he would have expected. “That’s where people get up and perform poetry they’ve written, right?”
“Exactly.” She didn’t even try to hide her surprise.
“We may be a little out of the way here in Eagle Mountain, but we’re not completely backward,” he said.
“Have you ever been to a poetry slam?” she asked.
“No. But then, I can’t say I’ve ever cared much for poetry. Probably comes from having to memorize ‘O Captain! My Captain!’ when I was in fourth grade.”
“My poetry isn’t like that.”
“I kind of figured.”
She fell silent and Gage focused on his food as soon as Sasha had placed the dishes on the table. When he looked up again, Maya was staring at him. “I’d like to see Angela,” she said softly.
He should have seen that coming. “I can arrange that. Maybe late tomorrow.” He leaned toward her. “Is there someone else you should call to be here with you? Another sibling? Your parents?”
“I spoke to my parents after I talked to you,” she said. “They live in Arizona. My mom isn’t in good health and traveling is hard for her. And there’s nothing they can do. I told them they should stay put until we know more. And there aren’t any other siblings.”
“Okay.” So she had to bear this all by herself. He would do what he could to ease the burden for her.
“What about you?” she asked. “I know you have a brother—the sheriff. Any other brothers and sisters?”
“I have a sister. She’s a graduate student at CSU. Our parents have a ranch just outside of town.”
She speared a cherry tomato on her fork. “A ranch as in cows?”
“And horses. The Walking W Ranch has been in operation since 1942. My great-grandparents started it.”
“So do you, like, ride and rope and all that stuff?” she asked.
He suppressed a grin. “All that stuff.”
“That explains the belt buckle.”
He glanced down at the large silver-and-gold buckle, which he had won as State Junior Champion Bronc Rider in high school. “I was riding horses years before I learned to ride a bicycle,” he said. “And I still help out with fall roundup.”
She shook her head. “Our lives are so different we could be from two different countries.”
“We’re probably not that different,” he said. “I’ve found that people behave pretty much the same wherever they’re from.”
“Well, I’m from the city and I have no desire to ride a horse. And I hope you won’t take this wrong, but I thought my sister was crazy when she said she and Greg were thinking about moving here.”
“You told me they bought the mining claims for a demonstration project, not to live on.”
“That’s right. But they were talking about finding a place here in town. They had fallen in love with Eagle Mountain. I don’t know why.”
“You might be surprised,” Gage said. “I’ve heard from other people that the place has a way of growing on you.”
“I just want to find my niece and go home.” She looked all in, her eyes still red and puffy from crying, her shoulders slumped.
Gage pushed aside his plate. “You must be exhausted,” he said. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you to your car at the sheriff’s office and you can follow me to the B and B.”
Fifteen minutes later, they parked at the curb in front of the Victorian home Paige Riddell had converted into a bed-and-breakfast. The light over the front door came on and Paige stepped out. “I’m Paige,” she said, coming forward to take Maya’s bag. “You’ve had a pretty miserable day, I imagine, so I won’t prolong it, but I will say how sorry I am for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Maya gave Paige a long look. “Gage said I would like you—that he thought we’d have a lot in common.”
“That depends,” Paige said. “Some folks around here think of me as the local tree-hugging rabble-rouser, but I don’t take that as an insult.”
“Then yeah, I think we’ll get along fine,” Maya said.
“Let me show you to your room.” Paige put an arm around Maya and ushered her into the house. In the doorway, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder at Gage. “Don’t leave yet,” she mouthed, then went into the house with Maya.
Gage moved to the porch swing to the right of the door and sat, letting the calm of the night seep into him. Only one or two lights shone in the houses that lined the street, not enough to dim the stars overhead. He thought of the little girl in the woods and hoped she was where she could see those stars, and that maybe, seeing them, she wouldn’t feel so alone.
The door opened and Paige stepped out. “I got her settled in,” she said. “Grief can be so exhausting. I hope she’s able to get some sleep.”
“I’ll come by and pick her up in the morning and take her up to the campsite,” he said. “We’re hoping her niece will see her and come to her. I found out tonight that the little girl is deaf,