Authors: Elizabeth Hunter
“Call me Caleb, please. And what situation is that?” Four or five theories popped into his mind, but he was curious what Alma was thinking.
She examined him thoughtfully, her dark eyes taking stock of him in a way that reminded Caleb of his own grandmother. “You’re in for an interesting season of life, Chief Gilbert. But I think you might just be the right man for the job, after all.”
Now, what the hell did that mean? And why did this seemingly harmless old woman suddenly set off every instinctive alarm he’d honed in the past fifteen years?
“Hey, Grandma, can you take that pie to Mr. Campbell?” Caleb’s eyes darted to the right to see Jena approaching. He quickly shook off the sense of foreboding that had enveloped him under Alma’s inspection and turned his attention to Jena. Her long legs were encased in a pair of worn jeans and a simple apron covered up a green shirt the color of dusty cactus. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her expression was calm and carefully blank.
Caleb turned his most charming grin on her as Alma walked away. Then he and Jena were the only two people in a room that buzzed with slowly growing chatter.
“Jena Crowe.”
“Caleb Not-just-passing-through.”
She was quick. He liked that. “Please, feel free to call me Chief Not-just-passing-through. I strive for professionalism.”
“Is that your Indian name?”
He shook his head. “No, my Indian name is Caleb Gilbert.”
“Ha-ha. What can I get for you?” He raised an eyebrow and Jena rolled her eyes. “To drink, Chief?”
“Iced tea if you have it.”
“Of course.” She turned to grab a glass from the counter behind her, filling it with ice and black tea before she set it down in front of him. “So… you live here now.” It wasn’t a question.
“I do.”
She was being awfully quiet. Gone was the bold woman at The Cave with her flirting eyes and quick smile. New Jena was all caution and suspicion. If he had to guess, she was a woman who strived for as much privacy as a very small town would allow. He could see curious eyes turn toward them, but a quick glance from her made them look away.
“You sure didn’t mention that the night we met at The Cave.”
“Well…” He took a sip of his tea. “I didn’t live here then.”
She leaned over the counter. “Is that considered an evasive answer, Chief Gilbert?”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “Am I a suspect?”
She straightened and Caleb very pointedly did not look at the soft curve of her hip that was right at his eye level. Nope, didn’t look at that at all.
“Suspect?” She shook her head and poured herself her own glass of tea. “You could call it that.”
“Jena…” He drew out her name with pleasure, liking the sound of it in his mouth. He glanced around and lowered his voice. “I’m not sure what you think about me, but you should know I’m not a gossip.”
Her cheeks reddened slightly, but he kept talking. “I’m not a loud mouth and—as a habit—I listen more than I talk. So what you and me—”
“There is no ‘you and me.’”
He smothered the short burst of disappointment and plowed forward. “What you and me are or aren’t or might be is none of anyone’s business but our own.”
She finally gave a quiet laugh. “Oh, Chief Gilbert. It’s been a while since you’ve lived in a small town, hasn’t it?”
Caleb grimaced. She wasn’t making this easy. But then, if Caleb Gilbert had learned early on, the good things—the really good ones—didn’t come easy. Jena was focused on a very short past, and he was far more interested in the future. Diversionary tactics were necessary.
He glanced behind her at the hat hanging on the wall. “You have a tempestuous relationship with hats.”
She snickered and a flicker of the woman he’d met two weeks ago peeked out. “I told you. And I see that you’ve left yours well out of reach. That’s probably a smart thing.”
“Don’t touch my hat, woman.”
“Ha!” She smiled and turned to grab her order pad from the counter behind her. “Men and their hats.”
“This is police property. I’d have to arrest you.”
Now why did that make her cock her eyebrow like that? He bit back the evil smile that wanted to come out.
“What can I get you, Chief?”
“Call me Caleb.”
She didn’t say anything, just looked at him expectantly. He smiled. “How about a burger, medium-rare, with everything, and the keys to one of those fixed up Airstreams that sit out at the back of your property?”
Her jaw dropped. “Wh-what?”
“Well…” His smile grew. He liked catching her off balance. He’d have to do it again. “I asked my new deputy if he knew anyone with a small place to rent. Amazingly, the rental market in Cambio Springs isn’t booming, but he assured me that you have two great trailers out behind your place that you manage for your folks.” He shifted a little closer to her. “You came highly recommended.”
“You want to rent one of my mom’s trailers?”
“They’re empty, right?”
“Um… yes.” She was scribbling furiously on the pad. Probably telling the cook to poison him.
“And you manage them for your folks?”
“They’re my mom’s project mostly. They’re old, but she fixed them up inside and they’re really nice. Full hookups and—why am I telling you this?” She was blinking rapidly and her mouth twisted in annoyance. “You’re not going to rent one of my mom’s trailers.”
“Why not?” He looked at her innocently. “Feel free to run a background check, Jena. I’m a very upstanding citizen.”
“Because…”
He waited. She’d rent one to him, if for no other reason than to
not
rent one would appear suspicious. Jeremy had said both of the trailers were rented out occasionally to friends and family of residents who were in town for a long visit, but Jena’s mom had been complaining that she could use a regular tenant.
“Because, I…”
He leaned toward her. The color was high in her cheeks and he could almost feel the waves of annoyance pouring off her. It made him want to poke at her all the more. He was an irritating bastard sometimes. “You… what?”
She was stuck. Her teeth were clenched, but she finally said, “I’ll get you a rental application.”
The grin took over his face. “Much appreciated.”
The gritted teeth remained. “And when were you looking to move in?”
“Oh, as soon as possible.”
“Of course you were.” She cleared her throat pulled her shoulders back. All business. “Would you like fries or coleslaw with your burger, Chief Gilbert?”
“Is the coleslaw homemade?”
“I make it fresh every morning.”
“Then I’d love to get a taste.”
There were those gritted teeth again. What do you know? She was cute when she was pissed off, too. “Fantastic.”
He heard the bell jingle as she spun around to give his order to the cook. A tall man wearing a uniform sat one stool down from him and held out a hand. “You must be Caleb Gilbert. Saw the truck outside. Devin Moon. Sheriff’s department.”
“Deputy Moon.” Caleb held out a hand, set at ease by the familiar presence of law enforcement. He’d been told that Devin Moon was the deputy who handled most of the occasional problems that cropped up in the Springs. Jeremy had spoken to the man on the phone more than once and Caleb could tell the two were friendly. “Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard good things.”
“Thanks.” The other man’s eyes took a quick assessment, then looked away. “I’ve heard… interesting things.”
Someone had been on the phone with Albuquerque. “Oh?”
“All good.” Devin offered him a slow nod. “Very impressive record, Chief Gilbert. You have quite the reputation in New Mexico.”
“Thanks, but I’m happy to be in a smaller town now.”
Devin shrugged a shoulder. “Hard to imagine you won’t get bored.”
Just then, Jena stalked past, grabbed his cup, refilled it, and nodded at Devin.
“Hey, Dev. The usual?”
“Yep.”
“Coming right up.”
Caleb tried to catch her eye. She finally looked at him sideways and he winked. He bit back a laugh and smiled when she sneered. “Thank you, Jena.”
“Your burger is almost ready.”
“Can’t wait.” It was probably wrong how appealing he found her when she was irritated.
Devin glanced between Jena and Caleb, whose eyes were glued to the backside of the curt woman. Caleb heard a low chuckle.
“Never mind,” Devin said. “Maybe you won’t be bored, after all.”
Caleb was halfway through a really excellent burger after inhaling the Jena’s coleslaw. The woman could definitely cook. And give orders. And run a very tight ship. None of these qualities were making her any less attractive. When he met her, he’d been looking for a fun distraction, but he didn’t usually think about distractions quite this much.
It was a little worrisome, but he tried not to think about it.
He liked the diner. It had a relaxed atmosphere that fit the town. Eccentric, with a mix of traditional diner food and more exotic specials. He liked the burger, but was starting to regret not trying the
carne asada
tacos that Devin had ordered. The smell of earthy spices mingled with the aroma of frying beef and potatoes.
Caleb was talking shop with Devin when a small tornado entered the place. It whirled and clattered, throwing a cloud of dust, backpack, and bike helmet as it spun onto the seat between Devin and Caleb.
“Hey, Uncle Dev!” The whirlwind settled into a small boy that Caleb would put around six or seven years old. Bright green eyes looked up at him and a quick, friendly smile lit up the boy’s face. “Hi! Are you the new policeman?”
Caleb decided he liked the small whirlwind. “I am.” He held out a hand for the boy to shake. “Caleb Gilbert.”
Jena broke in. “And you can call him Chief Gilbert, Bear.” Jena bent over the counter and kissed the boy’s forehead. So this was one of her boys? He looked nothing like her. Must have looked like the dad. “Want a snack? And where’s Low?”
“Out talking with Kevin about… stuff.”
A look passed between Devin and Jena. A silent conversation that Caleb had no part of. Interesting.
Devin rose from the bench. “I’ll go check on ‘em. Bear, guard my seat.”
“Okay!” The small boy settled onto Devin’s stool, sneaking glances at Caleb when he thought he wasn’t looking. Finally, Caleb broke the silence. “Bear? Is that your name?”
“No. My name’s really Aaron. But when I was a baby, Mom called me Aar-Bear. Now they just call me Bear.” He giggled. “Even though I won’t turn into one or anything.”
“Well, I guess not.” Caleb laughed. “But it’s still a cool nickname. What grade are you in?”
“Second. I’m in Mrs. Strickle’s class.”
“So you’re… seven?”
Aaron’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! Do you have any kids?”
“Nope. But I have a lot of cousins who do.”
“That’s cool.”
Jena slid a plate of cut apples and cheese slices in front of Aaron before she rushed away. The diner was in the middle of the lunch rush. She was barking orders into the kitchen and sadly, had no time to be irritated with him.
Suddenly, a thought occurred and he turned back to Aaron. “Hey, shouldn’t you be in school? I don’t want to have to arrest you for truancy when we just met.”
Aaron giggled and bit into an apple. “Nope. Half days on Fridays.”
“Well, that’s pretty cool.”
“I know. Mom has to work, so we hang out here. Or sometimes Low watches me at home.”
Was it sneaky or just friendly to talk to the kid of a woman you were interested in? He wasn’t exactly grilling the little guy. He was just curious. “How old is Low?”
“He’s almost twelve. Is that your hat?” The boy talked with his mouth full, but Caleb could still understand him. He glanced over at the simple straw Stetson that lay on the stool next to him.
“Yep. That’s mine.”
“That’s a cool hat.”
“Thanks. Keeps the sun off.”
Aaron glanced down the counter at his mother and leaned toward Caleb. “You better make sure you pay for your lunch.”
Caleb’s eyes darted between Aaron and an old hat nailed up on the wall behind the cash register. Suddenly, one mystery seemed a little more clear. Tempestuous relationship with hats, huh? He nodded at Aaron. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the tip.”
He heard the bell to the door chiming in the background, but his eyes were locked on the kid, who was staring at him with an odd expression. Aaron narrowed his green eyes and tilted his head to the side.
Caleb said, “Bear?”
A tentative hand reached over to his arm and Caleb could feel the warm palm resting on his forearm as Aaron continued to stare. Just then, a sweet smile crossed the boy’s face. “You’re like us.”
For a second, a strange instinct tickled the back of his mind, as if there was something Caleb had forgotten that he was on the verge of remembering. “What do you—?”