Kaleidoscope (Colorado Mountain #6)(14)

Chapter Four

Two Days

His flashlight lighting the way, Deck moved through the snow, dense pine and aspen. He had his gun at his hip, his flashlight in hand and a canister of Mace at his other hip.

There were bears in those woods and if he encountered one, he wouldn’t want to put bullets in it. Not because he didn’t want shots heard, but because it would be a crime against nature to bring down such a magnificent beast.

A bear would, however, survive a dose of Mace.

His phone vibrated at his ass, he pulled it out and looked at the display.

In place.

Chace was set.

He’d picked Chace up in town. Chace had dropped him at the road down from Emme’s place and taken off in Deck’s truck. They left Chace’s Yukon in town because they didn’t want to leave a vehicle on a road close to Emme’s house. If Chace managed to keep the tail, he’d send a car to pick up Deck when Deck finished his business.

Deck’s thumb moved over the screen and he sent back, Copy.

He was about to put his phone back in his pocket when it vibrated in his hand and he saw the display said “Emmanuelle calling.”

Seeing her name on his phone sent warmth through his gut.

Seeing it on his phone after ten at night when he’d left her about half an hour ago and with all the shit going down around her made his warm gut tight.

Fuck.

He stopped, took the call and put the phone to his ear.

“You okay?” he asked as greeting.

“I forgot about Chace,” she replied.

At her words, his body got tight.

“What?” he asked.

“In all the talk about life, my house, your house, which, by the way, if I don’t get an invitation to see it and drink your homemade beer, and soon, I’ll be peeved, and you giving me stick about my Bronco, I forgot to ask about Chace.” Her voice dipped lower. “Been around these parts a while, honey. I heard what happened to him and his then girlfriend, now wife. Are they good?”

His body loosened.

“Since they’re good and the proof of that bein’ the fact that Faye’s heavily pregnant and Chace is actin’ like he’s the first man who’s ever gonna be a daddy on this earth—in other words, he’s over the goddamned moon he knocked up his wife—givin’ you stick about your desecration of God’s vehicular gift to all mankind, the operative part of that word bein’ man, took precedence over discussing Chace and Faye.”

He heard her low, alluring chuckle, grinned at the phone and continued to make his way through the woods but did it slower, thus quieter. He didn’t want her to hear crunching snow or breaking twigs.

His focus on several things, with ease, he kept it and called up the recent memory of standing outside the opened driver-side door of her Bronco after walking her there when they’d left The Mark, teasing her and making her laugh.

He was not wrong in teasing her. A Ford Bronco was a man’s car, no doubt about it. The fact that her bronze 1995 Bronco had ponytail holders shoved down the gearshift, a glittery butterfly hanging from her rearview mirror that had the words “Free to Fly” in script under it and a marketing shot of Raylan Givens from the TV show Justified lounging back in a chair, one leg bent, one cowboy-booted foot stretched straight out, gun up, cowboy hat tipped low on his brow, this taped to the ceiling of the truck over the rearview mirror was Bronco Sacrilege. Not to mention, the truck was clean as a pin.

Some men, seeing that, might be moved to rip that shit out and take it four wheeling, getting it as muddy, dusty and dirty as humanly possible.

Some men, seeing Emme and knowing that was her truck, might be moved to do that either before or after they turned her over their knee for committing such blasphemy.

Deck was finding he was the latter.

Her words cut into thoughts that were making even Deck lose focus.

“Chace’s wife is pregnant?” she asked.

“Heavily,” he answered.

“That’s good,” she said softly. “I… well, after all that went down, you know, after she was rescued and it made the news she was buried alive and Chace was again in the papers, I went to the library to check her out.”

Chace’s wife, Faye, was the librarian at Carnal Library.

Deck said nothing. He still found it difficult to think about that night. A night he spent with a friend who had endured torture, knowing his woman was buried under dirt. So he held onto the fact that they pulled Faye out of that box breathing, a year later he watched her tie the knot with his boy and now they were building a family of more than them and two serious-as-f*ck ugly cats that Faye adored.

“She’s really pretty,” Emme told him.

“Yeah,” Deck agreed, still moving.

“Perfect for Chace.”

“Yeah,” Deck repeated, this time with more feeling.

“Knowing he was around, I thought of, you know, doing an approach, letting him know I lived close. But I didn’t know, what with all that went down, if I should. I mean, not only with Elsbeth and how that might reflect on me but also with Chace.”

His boy had had it rough. And Deck was tight with his boy so Emme would know Elsbeth ending things would not make Elsbeth or anyone around her Chace’s favorite people.

It was again pure Emme she’d have a mind to that. All of it.

“Sure he’ll be glad to reconnect.”