Hideaway. Hannah Alexander
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splashing stopped. “He left,” came the mellow feminine voice of his attacker. “Are you okay?”
“Much better. You?”
“I’m fine, but you took the brunt of it.” She didn’t sound like a mad mace sprayer. She sounded like a reasonable human being.
He dashed the water from his hair and beard with his hands and glanced up at her shadow in the darkness. “Wow. I can’t believe the difference a lakeful of water can make.”
“It’s pretty dramatic.” She switched on her flashlight, illuminating her drenched face, hair, red flannel jacket. “Come on, let’s get to the house before we freeze. Your ranch hand already excused himself.”
“You mean he went back to the ranch?”
“No, up to the house, I think. I wasn’t paying much attention at the time.”
“I can’t believe he just took off like that. It isn’t like him.” Dane pulled out his own flashlight and joined her.
“You must have been underwater when he said he was leaving. He’s pretty upset with me.”
“He has a lot to learn about women.”
“Oh, really.” There was an edgy pause as they walked side by side up the steep slope of the yard, shoes crackling the overgrown grass. “I take it you’ve been maced before.”
Ah, yes, that mellow voice sharpened nicely. In spite of his recent shock, he felt his lips twitch with a smile that was probably unwise at the moment. “What I meant was that he needs to understand that any woman in her right mind would have done the same thing, accosted by two strange men out in the middle of nowhere.”
There was another pause as she glanced sideways at him, as if to determine his sincerity. “Good save.”
“Thank you.” The smile would not behave. He knew it was a reaction to the relief he’d just experienced, but he’d learned long ago to look for the humor in any situation. He could enjoy a slapstick comedy routine on occasion—and this was definitely that. “I apologize for frightening you, and when I hunt Blaze down, I’ll beat an apology out of him, too.”
Too late, he realized how that must sound. He felt her disquieted gaze. “Figure of speech,” he said. “I don’t beat my boys.”
“You called him Blaze?”
“It’s his nickname, and believe me, it isn’t a slur. He chose the name himself.” He glanced at her. She had an expressive face that revealed her continued concern. Dark eyes that seemed warm, intelligent. She was only three or four inches shorter than his six-foot frame, with straight black hair, now heavy with lake water, that fell in layers across her neck and forehead.
She took the porch steps with athletic grace, then turned to him. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am about this.”
He stepped into the beam of her flashlight. “I know it’s a little late for the amenities, but I’m Dane Gideon. I run the boys’ ranch across the lake.”
“So I gathered from Gavin. I’m Cheyenne Allison. A friend of mine inherited this place, and I’m on…I’ll be staying here for a while. Does Gavin have a habit of wandering away from the ranch in the middle of the night?”
“On occasion. He’s accustomed to more solitude than he gets with us. I’d like to keep him at the ranch more consistently, but I’ve decided to use my own discretion about discipline with this kid, instead of going strictly by the rules. Until now, Blaze hasn’t let me down.” He opened the screen door and held it for her.
She hesitated, thoughtful eyes focusing intently on him.
Right. She was less confident about the situation than she appeared. “Actually, I don’t need to go inside,” he said. “I just need to collect Blaze and take him home. I’m not sure what it is about this place that draws him, except that it’s peaceful here. Its previous inhabitants were very kind people, and they took good care of the house.” Why was he chattering all of a sudden? Perhaps it was the superastute gaze of those dark eyes.
“Come on in,” she said at last, stepping over the threshold. “Gavin doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to go back to the ranch. Do you know anything about Austin Barlow calling the sheriff about him?”
As she passed, Dane caught a faint scent of vanilla. “I don’t think Austin would do that. He has no reason to.”
Blaze wasn’t in the living room.
“Maybe he bolted again,” she said.
“He wouldn’t,” Dane replied. What was Blaze up to? He glanced around the room. “Obviously you don’t have electricity yet. Did you just get here?”
She nodded, looking around the barely furnished room—complete with cobwebs—with an expression of dismay.
“You know, there’s a cozy bed-and-breakfast about a mile from here, on the lakeshore,” Dane said. “I’d be glad to call Shatzi and see if there’s a room available for the remainder of the night.” He would negotiate a good price for her—it was the least he could do after terrorizing her tonight. “There’s usually a vacancy this time of year. That way you could have a nice hot breakfast before you come back out here to finish unloading your car and put everything in order.” He was talking too much again.
She gave him an enigmatic smile. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. The owner will have the power turned on first thing in the morning—she just didn’t expect me to arrive so early.” She raised her voice. “Gavin, are you in here?”
They heard a thump and a mutter of unintelligible words through the door at the western end of the room.
Dane opened the door and stepped through. “Blaze? We need to go home now, son.” He aimed the beam of his light around the plain, paneled bedroom, which contained a twin-size bed and small dresser in the southwest corner. There was a brown mess of stains in the center of the bare mattress. Something stank.
A grunt drew his light to the closet, where a denim-covered derriere presented itself to them. “Blaze.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, you want to let me in on the little mystery?” Dane asked. He felt the victim of tonight’s onslaught step up behind him. He turned to her. “I’m sorry about all this, really. Crazy as it seems, Blaze usually has a reason for behaving the way he…does. Blaze, we see your photogenic side, now would you show us your face and try hard to explain why you’re hiding in a closet in a stranger’s house?”
“Not hiding,” Blaze muttered. “Seeking. Come here, little darling.”
Dane could almost feel Cheyenne Allison’s alarm. She must think he ran a ranch filled with lunatics.
“Aha!” Blaze said. “There you are, you little fighter. Come here, let me take you to some milk. I bet you’re starved half to death. Where’s the rest of your family?”
Dane cleared his throat. “Blaze.”
“Ah, gotcha!” Blaze backed out of the closet, cuddling four mewling balls of golden kitten fluff beneath his chin. “Finally found them. You know the cat that was executed Saturday? I’m pretty sure these are her babies.”
Cheyenne caught her breath. “Somebody executed a cat?”
“We have a repeat offender who likes to vandalize the community every so often, “Dane explained. “Blaze, how did you—”
“I was hoping I could do this without getting in trouble.” Blaze nuzzled one of the kittens, then wrinkled his nose. “Phew, you stink. Didn’t Mama teach you how to use the kitty litter?”
“Blaze.”
“Okay, okay, but you’re not going to write me up over this, are you?”
“I’m not sure I—”
“I