everything. Old wood. Old leather. Old hides. She used to love playing in hay, getting dirty all day and fighting her mother when told to take a shower.
A white pickup truck parked at the far end stopped her short. Partially hidden by stacked hay, it seemed so out of place. She walked to the clean, new vehicle and saw a dent in the driver’s-side door. Peering through the window, she noticed nothing odd except newness and cleanliness. Immaculate cleanliness. She tried the door handle. Locked.
What was a nice truck doing in an old barn like this? Had the previous owner left it? That didn’t seem likely. Why leave a vehicle that was worth something? Maybe the engine blew up. Walking to the front, she saw no plate. Nothing on the back, either. Someone had just dumped it here.
While that struck her as unusual, Penny supposed there must be an explanation. As she turned away, a tack room drew her back to her childhood again. She and her best friend had ridden horses almost every weekend. She fingered an old bridle and then brushed off the dirt that transferred to her skin. Some tools and a few other pieces of tack, all worn with age, kept her in the past until she caught sight of the truck again.
Who were the previous owners? Why had they sold? Had the homestead gone to shambles after the sale or had something happened to force them to leave? She didn’t know how long Jax had owned the place.
Penny walked outside, seeing just a portion of the truck before latching the door. She looked toward the boarded-up house and let another wave of lonely nostalgia sweep her before hiking back up the hill.
Her mother had sold their farm when Penny started college and she moved to an old house in town. Cheboygan. Thinking of her mom only intensified the loneliness that pressed into her.
When had she last seen her mother? Christmas? They hadn’t talked in a while. Penny had gotten so busy with her job, she’d even ignored her mother’s calls. She missed her, of course she missed her. She loved the difference between her life here and her mother’s back in that sleepy northern Michigan town.
At the top of the hill, she followed the dirt road along a white fence, feeling better now that she was out in the open with swaying wildflowers keeping her company. Still, the ties of her past tugged. Birds chirped and a mosquito buzzed in front of her face. She swatted that away, her trip to childhood vanishing. Time to go back to the city.
Reaching the end of the dirt road, she turned onto Jax’s paved driveway. His house came into view and she saw him standing on the porch, holding a cup of coffee. He looked much different in jeans and a flannel shirt than the pricey suits she usually saw him in at work. His close-cropped dark hair fit the businessman more than the mountain man. In fact, he didn’t strike her as a mountain man at all. His log home was modern, not rugged. His polish and sophistication and social appetite had attracted her when she’d first met him.
She smiled as she neared. “What a beautiful place.”
He didn’t return her smile. In fact, his reaction seemed off.
“Where have you been?” he asked with forced amenability.
She stepped up onto the porch, wary of his stiff demeanor, the affront in his keen brown eyes. Did he feel she’d taken liberties by exploring without him inviting her? How ridiculous. Why would he mind?
“I walk every morning,” she said.
“Why’d you go that way?” he asked, pointing in irritation. “There’s a path through the woods out back for hiking.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t noticed. “I saw the dirt road that skirts the edge of your property.” She turned to indicate the direction of the road. “You didn’t give me a tour, so... I hope you don’t mind.”
He smiled in a way that was more calculated than genuine. “My bad.”
Did that mean he did mind? Uncomfortable, she went inside. Walking through the mudroom, she went into the living room, catching sight of a digital photo frame cycling through thousands of pictures he had of him and his son. One passed of them in the mountains at a cabin, different than this one, which suggested they’d gone somewhere on a trip. It gave her something to look at other than him.
Jax followed her into the kitchen. “What did you find on your walk?”
Why was he so tense? And what did he think she’d find? That truck? She began to feel a need to get away from here, and then chided herself for overreacting.
Taking out a bottle of water, she let the refrigerator door close. “An old barn.”
He moved toward her, stopping a couple of feet from her. “Did you go inside? That building is pretty old. It isn’t safe.”
“No,” she lied, twisting the cap off the plastic bottle and taking a drink. “I saw the house boarded up and decided it’d be better to have company to go exploring.” She felt him assess her.
“I had it boarded up when I bought the property,” he said, seeming to relax a little. “The house needs too many repairs.”
“Is that why you built this one? How long ago was that?” she asked.
“A little over a year.”
The truck didn’t look as though it had been in the barn that long. Had Jax parked it there?
“I was going to make you breakfast in bed,” she said, trying to keep things light. “How about we have it out on your back patio instead?”
After several seconds, he murmured, “Sure. Next time you feel like exploring, take me with you, okay?” His dark eyes warned rather than showed concern. “It’s dangerous out there alone.”
Dangerous in what way? “I’m not a kid,” she said with a fake smile.
“I’m talking about the wildlife. And an abandoned house invites other predators.”
What did he mean by other predators? Him? Was he delivering a subtle threat? Maybe he didn’t trust that she hadn’t at least peeked into the barn. She began to feel as though she should make an excuse and leave. She’d never seen this side of him and, frankly, didn’t like it.
Not a woman to give in to fear, however, she met his calculating gaze without looking away. He was the first to break the tense moment. Grinning like the Jax she’d first met in a meeting at work, he pecked a kiss on her mouth.
“Breakfast in bed would have been nice,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I missed it.”
He seemed like himself again, but his reaction to her exploration lingered. She watched him go to the table and sit before his computer. When he lifted the top, she went about preparing a simple breakfast.
The television went to a news program just as the bacon was ready and the eggs were in a pan. Jax must have turned the TV on when he woke, something he did every morning to catch the weather segment. Right now he typed away on his laptop, working and oblivious to what was being said.
Not Penny.
“Police are asking for anyone to come forward with any information in Sara Wolfe’s murder investigation. The eleven-year-old girl disappeared last month on her way home from school. Her body was found last week along the banks of a remote area of Cottonwood Creek,” the female anchorwoman said sadly.
