calling the sheriff.”
“Wait.” He reached out his hand to stop her. The last thing he needed was the sheriff stomping around on his property—especially if somebody was doing something illegal out there. And attempted murder was certainly illegal.
He felt Elise freeze the second his fingers brushed her hand. She looked up at him, and for a moment, time rolled back and they were young again, certain their love could conquer all. They’d been so naive back then.
“Just wait a second. Let’s sort this out first.” He watched as she swallowed and obediently lowered the phone, though she still held it tightly in her hand.
She repeated her earlier question. “Who owns that property?”
He didn’t want to tell her, didn’t even want to think about why someone had been shooting at her from his land or what the legal implications might be. But if she was in danger, he couldn’t withhold information that might help keep her safe. He met her eyes.
“I do.”
TWO
Elise stared at Cutch, the old feelings he stirred up making her heart flop around like a glider caught in a gale. She needed a steady head to sort out what was going on. Having Cutch so close only made things worse. “You own the land from which someone was shooting at me?” she clarified.
He looked back out the window as though he could still see the spot, though it now lay five miles behind them. Meeting her eyes again, he nodded. “Yup.”
“That settles it.” Elise jerked the door open and slid out of the truck, flicked her phone open and dialed 911. The McCutcheons and the McAlisters had been rivals for generations, even before the McCutcheons had sabotaged her grandfather’s plane long before she was born, though it wasn’t until his fiery death that the feud had become so fierce. It had been eight years since she’d experienced their direct hostility, and she hadn’t thought they’d be so territorial, but she’d always been wrong when she’d dared to trust a McCutcheon in the past. She needed to wise up.
Cutch was out of the truck and around to her side before she could hit Send. “Hang on just a second. This isn’t as bad at it looks.” His hand slid down her arm to her fingers.
Her eyes followed the shiver that ran down her arm at his touch and settled on the place where his strong, calloused hand covered hers. Her heart gave another dying gasp. “Somebody tried to kill me, Cutch. From your land. And now you’re trying to stop me from calling the sheriff? I don’t think so.” She jerked her hand away and looked at him with begging eyes, wanting him to explain, wanting him to say something that would make everything right. But he hadn’t been able to do that eight years ago, and she doubted he could do it now. She knew better than to spend even one more second getting any closer to him than she already was.
“Fine.” He took a step back and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Go ahead and call the sheriff, but where are you going to have him meet you? Here? Or at the scene of the crime?”
“At the scene of the crime.”
“And where is that?” Cutch challenged.
“Where I was being shot at. Where my glider went down.”
“Yeah? Where’d your glider go down?”
“In your stupid, old pecan grove,” she snapped, clicking her phone shut and shoving it back into her pocket. She hated to admit it, but Cutch had a point. She couldn’t explain to him where the incident had happened, and he knew the land better than anyone. Before she could direct the sheriff to the spot, she’d need to find out a little more information.
Cutch continued. “My stupid, old pecan grove happens to cover over six-hundred acres. And you can’t see something stuck in the trees from one tree to the next, let alone one acre to the next. I’d love to catch whoever was shooting at you, but I doubt they’re going to stick around and wave their hands in the air for us to find them. So if you want to direct the sheriff to a crime scene, maybe you ought to figure out where that is first. ’Cause he’s a busy man, and I doubt he’ll want to tromp around in the woods all day.”
“Fine.” Elise stomped across the cut-grass parking area toward the lookout tower. “Let’s see what we can see from here.”
She climbed the sturdy wooden steps with Cutch right behind her, furious with how self-conscious he made her feel. In the eight years since their ill-fated relationship, she’d managed to avoid him almost completely, though that was tough to do in a county of fewer than ten-thousand people.
Once, a few years ago, he’d shown up at one of her glider tutorials at the Holyoake County Fair, and she’d taught him the basics of power gliding in front of a crowd of people. He was clearly a natural at flying and had performed well, but she’d ended up going home that night and crying into her pillow. That was the kind of effect he had on her. And she didn’t need that kind of complication when she was trying to sort out who’d shot down her glider.
Elise reached the top of the scenic tower and leaned on the western rail. The land spread out before her in a jagged, tree-covered expanse, the hills jutting up at steep angles, the valleys dipping down in deep shadows. The Loess Hills were beautiful in their own way, though the sandy soil and harsh terrain made farming them all-but-impossible. Everyone who’d tried to make a living off the hills had ended up impoverished. They were nice to look at—that was all.
A haze of late-summer heat made the air shimmer on the horizon. “Where’s your pecan grove?” she asked as Cutch joined her by the rail. “My stupid, old pecan grove?” His icy-blue eyes swept over her, chilling her. “It’s over there.”
Elise tried to look where he pointed. Trees. Trees. More trees. Hills with trees on them and more trees. Nothing that screamed pecan grove.
“Where?” she asked impatiently.
His arm extended, his finger still pointing westward, Cutch stepped closer to her, his body fitting neatly against hers like a bird tucking its young under its wing. A warm rush flooded through her as he settled his other hand on her shoulder and aligned his face with hers.
“See where I’m pointing?” His gentle breath joined the breeze as it cooled her cheek.
“Uh-huh.” Elise could see nothing. She was aware of Cutch and his closeness and how much she wanted to just let those strong arms wrap around her and hold her after the scare she’d had in the air. But thoughts like that would only get her into trouble. Cutch had sweet-talked his way into her heart before, though he’d only done it to make a fool out of her. She could do without a repeat of that lesson. She blinked and tried to focus. “Do you see anything?” She licked her lips and tried to restore some moisture to her mouth, but her throat had gone completely dry.
“Pecan trees.”
Elise sighed. “No sign of my glider?”
“Nope. Just trees.” Cutch stepped away from her and lowered his hand to the wooden railing.
Finally able to breathe again, Elise kept her eyes on the distant trees, not trusting herself to look at him while she spoke. “I think I should call the sheriff. Even if we don’t know exactly where my glider went down, and even if those guys are long gone, I’ll feel a lot better once I report what happened.” Or at least she hoped she’d feel better.
She
