“I’m not going to lie just to ease your mind.” He closed the lid of his laptop and met her gaze. “But if it’ll make you feel better, the more time that passes without my whereabouts making the news, the more likely it is the person who’s threatening me will fall into the trap my security team has set for him.”
“You consider that reassuring?” With a woeful shake of her head, she rose. “If that’s the best you can do, I’m pulling a Scarlett O’Hara.”
“What’s a Scarlett O’Hara?”
“Putting off until tomorrow what I don’t want to think about today.”
“What does that resolve?”
“Nothing for you, maybe,” she told him as she moved to the den, “but it works wonders for me.” She stopped before the fireplace to look at the portrait hanging above it. “Who’re they?” she asked curiously.
“Jase’s parents.”
“They look nice,” she said.
“I wouldn’t know. I never met them.”
“Sometimes you can tell a person’s personality just by looking,” she said, studying the couple’s faces. “Look at her smile. It’s not just on her lips, it’s in her eyes. And him,” she said, pointing. “The way he’s holding his arm around her, his stance? He obviously adores her and is very protective of her.”
“That’s quite a lot to assume from a simple photograph.”
“Some things can’t be faked.” She ambled on, smoothing a hand over the supple leather of the sofa’s back, as she looked around. “This is a cool place. Rustic, yet comfy. Much nicer than what I’d expect a hunter’s cabin to look like.”
“This was Jase’s home.”
She glanced back to find Garrett had moved to stand in the doorway between the kitchen and den, and was watching her.
“Why’d he move?” she asked.
“It was Mandy’s idea. After they married, she wanted to live in the family home.”
“Family home?” Her imagination conjured a big rambling house full of kids and laughter. “I guess his brothers and sisters didn’t have a problem with that?”
He seemed to hesitate a moment, then shook his head. “Jase was the Calhouns’ only child. He inherited their entire estate after their deaths.”
“Wow,” she said and crossed to peer out the front window. “He inherited all this?”
“Yes.”
“How big is it?”
“I have no idea. Huge, I would imagine. I know he raises cattle and has a large pecan orchard business, plus he leases hunting rights and cabins to hunters during hunting season. I’d think all that would require a substantial number of acres.”
“Probably.” She turned to him. “Do you think he’d mind if I wandered around and took some pictures?”
“Of what?”
“Nature, silly,” she said, laughing. “There are some gorgeous old trees behind the cabin, and woods are usually full of all kinds of interesting vegetation.”
“I don’t think he’d mind, as long as you didn’t stray too far.”
“Cool!” She started for the bedroom to get her camera, then stopped, remembering the coyote she’d heard howling the night before. “Want to come along?” she asked hopefully.
He pushed away from the wall. “Why not? There’s nothing else to do.”
She beamed a smile. “Great. I’ll get my camera. Won’t take a second.”
When she returned, Garrett was standing before the gun case, studying its contents. Her blood chilled, as she watched him take out a handgun.
“Uh, what are you doing?” she asked uneasily.
He spun the cylinder, checking the chambers for bullets. “Never know what you might run into in the woods.”
“Do you think the guy who’s after you will come here?”
He shrugged. “Best to be prepared.”
She gulped, wishing she hadn’t asked. “Do you know how to shoot a gun?”
He tucked the pistol into the waist of his jeans. “I rescued Zelda.”
“Zelda? The video game?”
At his nod, she choked a laugh. “Just my luck. Of all the men in the world to get marooned with, I get stuck with a computer nerd who thinks he’s embodied with super powers.”
Garrett sat on a log, watching Ali stroll alongside the creek, snapping pictures.
In spite of the danger lurking somewhere beyond the boundaries of the ranch, he felt surprisingly relaxed, calm even. He’d been living with the threat of his would-be assassin long enough to know that his current mood wasn’t normal. He also knew Ali was responsible for the change. She had a way of dealing with adversity that reduced its importance, made the most dire situation seem almost comical.
Pulling a Scarlett O’Hara.
He shook his head in amusement. Leave it to Ali to come up with something like that. But as ridiculous as her method sounded, he couldn’t argue its success. Caught in a similar situation, another woman would be wringing her hands and wailing about her plight. Not Ali. In spite of the danger they might be in, she was seemingly having the time of her life, crawling over rocks and stumps, taking pictures of plants and bugs, and all because she refused to think about their problem.
Some might consider her method of dealing with adversity a form of denial, foolish and nonproductive. A week ago, Garrett would have thought the same damn thing. But after spending time with her and experiencing, if only by association, the benefits of her methodology, he was beginning to believe the whole world would be a better place if more people took Ali’s approach to life.
“Careful,” he called to her, as her foot slipped on a rock. “That water might not be deep, but I’ll bet it’s cold.”
“And icky,” she said, making a face, as she looked through the viewfinder. “Lots of moss and slime. Oh!” she squealed. “There’s a turtle.”
“In the water?”
“Hiding under a rock.” She lowered the camera and motioned for him to join her. “Come look.”
“Thanks, but I’ve seen a turtle before.”
“Not one this big. He’s huge!”
Heaving a sigh, Garrett pulled the pistol from his waistband and set it on the log, before crossing to her.
She lifted the camera strap over her head and dropped it over his. “You can see him better through the zoom lens,” she explained. “Hunker down here,” she said, pointing to the spot where she’d been standing. “He’s on the far side of the creek.”
Garrett squatted down and brought the camera before his face. “I don’t see anything.”
She stooped behind him to peer over his shoulder. “Move the camera a little bit to the left. A little more. Do you see it now?”
He lowered the camera in disgust. “I don’t see anything but rocks and muddy water.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she fussed, and reached over his shoulders to bring the camera before his face again. Placing her cheek next to his, to align their vision, she nudged the camera a fraction to the left. “There. Do you see him now?”
See what? Garrett wasn’t sure he hadn’t been struck blind. He’d heard of sensory overload before, but he had never personally experienced its debilitating