Timber Creek (Sierra Falls #2)

Timber Creek (Sierra Falls #2) Page 22

“A forest-ranger brother is good for something.” He shrugged, watching the spot for more movement. “He’s the one who taught me how to look. They nest in these old trees—they like the cracks and crevices.”

“They? Are there more?” She relaxed into him—it was just the slightest bit, but he felt the impact like a Mack truck.

“Look.” He leaned closer again, and this time she didn’t stiffen at his touch. “There and there.” He pointed and pointed again. “I’ve counted three nests total, but there are probably more up high.”

“There are three mama owls in this tree?”

“Nah, those other nests must be old. They were probably abandoned a while ago.”

As she gazed up at that owl, leaning into his chest, Eddie wondered what she would do if he simply stroked down those bare arms, taking her hands in his. He risked hugging her a tiny bit closer.

As he held Laura like that, a great peace swept through him. It was an amazing life he led here in the mountains—such simplicity, but such majesty, too. Someday he’d find a woman to share it with. He knew a terrific pang of loss that it likely wouldn’t be this woman.

“You know,” he said quietly, “they’re monogamous.”

“Huh?” Her voice was quiet, muzzy. She was as transfixed by this magical moment as he was.

Why couldn’t it be Laura? Maybe she was the woman for him. Hell, he’d been crushing on her since puberty—maybe he’d been right all along.

“Owls,” he said, hugging her just a little tighter. And then he dared even further. He did what he’d been longing to do. He swept his hands down her smooth arms, cupping her hands gently in his. “Scott told me they take only one partner for life.”

She pulled away, looking annoyed. “Unlike some people I know.”

Inside, he cursed. He’d gone too far. But he was sick of her ridiculous assumptions about him. “You think you know me.”

“No, Eddie. I know I know you.”

“Do tell.” He tried to be nonchalant, but his voice was tight.

“You’re like every other guy.” She shouldered past him, headed out of the trees.

He’d been having fun, letting Laura think what she liked about him, but now something had changed. Maybe it was those little lacy pink straps that’d done it, but he figured it was time to show her who he really was. “Why? Because I like a pretty girl?”

“Because you’d make a move on anything in a skirt. And on your own job site, no less.”

He caught up to her, keeping pace as she strode back across the field to the house. She was so tense, so quick to jump to conclusions. It struck him that he’d never seen her easy with any man. It was as if the situation had tilted, and suddenly he saw her in a new light. “Look, Laura. I don’t know who the jackass is who hurt you—”

She spun on him. “Nobody hurt me.” But the pain that flashed in her eyes put the lie to her words.

“But I’m not out to,” he finished.

“You will if you finish this stupid hotel.”

“I don’t think we’re talking about the hotel.”

She sputtered, but when no words came, she turned and made for her car. “Just look into the water thing,” she shot at him, going at a brisk trot now. “And I will, too.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Emphasis on we. He slowed and let her go. There was no winning this particular battle—but he wasn’t about to cede the war. “Good-bye, Laura.”

For now.

Seventeen

Rob had a theory. Seven Stud was so named because seven was roughly the number of hours that could go by without his needing a break. Ever since his last big loss with the game, it’s been Texas Hold ’Em for him, but he decided tonight was the night to get back up on that Seven Stud pony.

And tonight he’d gone upscale, hitting the tables at Aura, a fancy resort casino on the Reno strip. Some day, after he hit it big, he’d bring Helen here. Maybe have a second honeymoon. She could sun herself by the pool. He’d rent them one of those cabanas, and people would serve her frosty drinks with frilly umbrellas.

Aura was a classy joint. When you were on the casino floor, it was all you could drink free on the house, though he knew not to drink too much at the tables. When he did, he stayed away from beer and wine—too potent. But they watered down the liquor at these places, so his habit was to nurse a Jack and Coke, one per hour. He never got buzzed, and with those lowball glasses and all that ice, he always made it about seven hours before he needed to get up.

Helen had looked so sad when he left tonight. He wished he could tell her he did this for them. For her. But she wouldn’t understand. All she could think about was the kids and the chores, while he had bigger concerns. Someday she’d understand. When he hired her a regular sitter and she got to cut her hours at the tavern, his plan would become clear, he had no doubt about that.

He’d known the moment he first saw her that she was the one for him. Even as a teenager, she’d been something else, with her sexy red hair and those curves—good Lord, those curves—any Hollywood starlet would envy them. He’d seen how other men looked at her. He knew he had to step up his game if he was going to be good enough for curves like that.

Which meant he had another mistress to consider, and at the moment, she wasn’t anything like the queen of hearts. What he longed for was the three of clubs, the card that would complete a straight flush, prettier than any queen.

The dealer doled out the last cards. “Down and dirty.”

A master at the poker face, he schooled his features. Three, three, come on three. He hadn’t seen any yet, which was unusual for Seven Stud. So many cards showing, and none of them threes.

His hole card was placed before him with a crisp flick. Rob rubbed his buffalo nickel for good luck. Rubbed the card. Peeked up at the corner. An eight.

His poker face shattered. “Shit.” Nada. And with a measly deuce, jack, six showing, he couldn’t even make a reasonable bluff, not when the young cowboy across from him was showing a pair of aces and his Colgate smile. “Fold.”

He’d been up for a while, but that last pot brought him back down to a hundred, and one lone Benjamin was definitely not going to do it. He needed more cash to get his mojo going, and that was exactly why he’d come to Aura tonight—their generous credit program.

He headed to the cashier and flashed his platinum Aura Player’s Rewards card. “I need a marker.”

The woman was a tiny thing, with chipped purple nails and a tag that read:

Aura Resort Casino

~ A Fairview Property ~

Hello my name is

THUY

He gave Thuy a killer smile, willing her to recognize him. She must have because there was a quick buzz-buzz, the gate clicked open, and a suited thug appeared to escort him to the back office.

It wasn’t his first time back there, not by a long shot. He stole a surreptitious glance at the secretary’s name tag. Sheryl, it looked like.

She swiped his card. “Good evening, Mister Haskell. What can I do for you?”

“I need a marker.”

She glanced down at her computer screen. “I’m sorry, sir. You’ve reached your limit.”

“What?”

“You’ve hit your limit for the month.”

His vision wavered for a moment, anger a sudden boil in his veins. But he kept his most charming smile plastered on his face. “It’s Sheryl, right?”

“Sharon.”

“My bad. Sharon. I guess I was too distracted by your pretty brown eyes to remember right.” He turned up that megawatt smile—he knew he wasn’t a bad-looking guy, and it’d served him well before. “Sharon, I get paid next week.” He heard an office door open, but ignored it, focused only on sweet-talking this Sharon who was the only thing standing between him and winning the pot of his dreams. “I just need a marker till then. I’m a lucky guy.”

“How can we help you, sir?” It was one of the pit bosses, and Rob finally registered that two men had entered the room, the blue-blazered boss and some other guy who was so fancy, he didn’t even have a name tag.

Rob shared his broad grin with them. “I was hoping to get a marker.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” the pit boss said, but then he went to stand at her desk, looking over her shoulder at her screen, and he grew thoughtful. “I can see you’ve hit a bad run, Mister Haskell.”

The fancy man joined him, looking at the screen. “A local, are you?” With a clap on the pit boss’s back, he added, “I think Mister Haskell here looks lucky. Another five hundred shouldn’t be a problem.” He caught Rob’s eye and gave him a chummy wink. “You’re good for it, aren’t you, Haskell?”

Rob nodded like crazy. “Yes, sir.”

“I’ll let you nice folks get back to business then.” Rob’s rainmaker shook the pit boss’s hand. “I’m over a barrel here. You’re confident you can stay on top of that project we talked about?”

A look of fear and respect stilled the man’s features. “I sent my boys out to the ranch, Mister Fox. It’s just, they were worried…” He pitched his voice lower. “They’re worried it might be, you know, illegal.”

The man in the fancy suit nodded grimly. “It’s good of them to be concerned. But you tell them what we’re doing will eventually be good for the land. Hell, think of all those rich dot-commers, anxious to spend their stock options on organic mud baths, hemp robes, hundred-dollar salads with local greens, heirloom this and that, and whatever the hell else we’re pushing these days. Now that’s eco-friendly. It’s just business, and business means making the tough decisions. The smart decisions. You can’t let this little glitch stop progress. We can’t stop building, which means you need to make this disappear for me. Because I can find someone else who will…do you hear what I’m saying?”