Page 6 of Forsaken Trail (Runaway 4)

“I’m glad you’re here.” She snuggled into her pillow. “Thanks for watching him.”

“My pleasure. Now sleep.” I kissed her forehead. “See you in the morning.”

She was snoring by the time I eased out of her room and closed the door.

The fading evening light drew me outside to her deck for a few moments alone. I’d stolen Clara’s Kindle and uncorked a bottle of wine. As I settled into a lounge chair, I tipped my head to the heavens.

Stars twinkled like diamonds in the midnight sky. There wasn’t a breath of wind. In Oregon, even from my place in town, there was the constant whisper of the ocean’s waves. Not here. There was nothing but the occasional screech from a hawk or the scrape of a lizard’s claws on a nearby rock.

From my seat, I had the perfect view of Brody’s home. It stood dark and endless. The only light came from the second-floor balcony. Maybe if I was lucky, he’d get Clara’s cold and be bedridden for a couple weeks.

A girl could hope.

I’d unlocked the Kindle’s screen, ready to dive into the tale of a pirate and the fair maiden he’d kidnapped at sea, when something caught my eye.

Brody emerged onto his lit balcony, wearing only a towel wrapped around his narrow hips.

Even from this

distance, the definition of his hard stomach was impossible to miss. As was the plane of his wide, bare chest dusted with dark hair. Brody’s arms were ropes upon ropes of muscle.

My breath hitched. My pulse quickened. Damn you, Brody Carmichael. Why couldn’t he be ugly? It would be so much easier to hate him if he didn’t elicit such a strong physical reaction. Undoubtedly, when I dove into my novel, Brody’s face would be the pirate’s.

His sixth sense must have prickled. One moment, he was leaning, arms braced, on the balcony railing. The next, he stood straight, his hands fisted at his sides, and faced my way.

I gave him a little finger wave and a glare.

I got nothing in return. As quickly as he’d come outside, he vanished inside his concrete castle.

The bastard was probably annoyed that I was here to steal Clara’s attention. Whatever. These were my two weeks with her. Mine. I was here now, and the loneliness had begun to fade. The well wasn’t bone dry.

Four months apart had been too long. Maybe it was time to push harder for a change. Maybe it was time to open my mind to a change of my own.

Clara needed help with August. I simply needed Clara and August. There was a weight on her shoulders that hadn’t been there in June, and it had nothing to do with her cold. She was here, working alone. Living alone. Parenting alone.

Enduring alone.

Our lives had been harder than they should have been, harder than my parents had planned. We’d walked a rocky, rough road.

Maybe it was time to switch directions. To forge a beaten path.

And find out if there was a rainbow waiting at the end of my forsaken trail.

Chapter Two

Brody

“How long will she be here?” I asked Clara.

I stood at the floor-to-ceiling-window wall in my office that overlooked the property beyond the house. The office was adjacent to my bedroom, and from here I could see Clara’s backyard and deck. I’d designed it that way, wanting to give her privacy but be close enough in case of an emergency. I’d wanted a line of sight.

I was regretting that decision. Just like I had last night when I’d come out for a quiet minute alone, only to realize I hadn’t been the only one seeking a moment of solitude.

She had taken over Clara’s deck. Last night. Today. She’d brought the old Cadillac. Wasn’t it time for her to scurry on back to Oregon?

Outside, Aria was stretched on a chaise with August tucked into her side. The two of them were reading a book, the boy eating up her every word. Her toned legs stretched long to her bare feet. She’d sat in exactly the same chair this morning, painting her toenails.

“Two weeks.” Clara sniffled, her voice thick and raspy. “I’m not sure why you’re asking me a question when you already know the answer.”