Page 5 of Two to Love


  “Don’t worry about it,” Nate said as though reading his mind.

  But he would. He pulled two beers out of the fridge. If Nate could put on that pansy-ass uniform and play at being a small-town sheriff, he could at least open the beer.

  Nate was already plowing through his burger when Zane sat down. “Bad day?”

  Nate shrugged. He was shut down, but Zane expected that. They hadn’t talked, really talked, in months, not since long before he came out of the coma. He was okay with that. He didn’t really want to talk, either. Talking wouldn’t help anything. Talking wouldn’t fix the things he’d broken. It wouldn’t explain how they’d broken in the first place. That was what haunted him at night. The why was going to kill him because he was fairly certain there was no answer forthcoming.

  Nate’s eyes slid off to the side when he started to look Zane in the face. “It was fine. It’s a shit-ass job. Nothing to it.”

  “Did you…” How did he ask it? Damn, but he wanted to know. “Did you hear anything about her?”

  Nate let the burger fall out of his hands. He reached for the beer. “Her?”

  He said it like he didn’t know, but there was a hardness to his eyes that let Zane know he was lying with that question. It was a manipulation to see if he could get Zane to say her name.

  “You know who I’m talking about,” he replied, trying to keep his tone as bland as possible. “I know it was your first day, but I thought at least you might ask if she’s still here. Don’t you want to know?”

  “Maybe I do and maybe I don’t, but if I did I would find out myself. I wouldn’t sit in this cabin and pretend like I don’t exist. If you want to know if she’s still here, go into town and find out for yourself.” Nate stood and stalked off to his room, his dinner half-eaten and forgotten.

  Zane didn’t touch his. Damn it. It was still there. Even after all these years, Callie Sheppard was still between them. How was he supposed to tell Nate that he wouldn’t go after her? The man should know. Fuck. Callie wouldn’t want him now. All it took was one look in the mirror to know no woman would want him now. His face was ruined, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever really had a heart to speak of.

  He stood up and walked to the front door. He pushed through the screen door and moved out onto the small wooden porch. The previous owner had left behind a couple of crappy lawn chairs. He lowered himself into one, hoping it would hold his weight. He had a sudden vision of three Adirondack chairs, side by side by side. Three places for three people to watch the brilliant sunset. Three places for people to rest and be together at the end of a long day.

  He took a swallow of beer.

  Why wouldn’t Nate put him out of his misery and tell him whether or not Callie was still in this mountain town? Was she married? Did she have a couple of kids? Did she think of him fondly or wish she’d never met him?

  He settled into the chair, which showed no signs of faltering. The night air was cooling off. The beer was cold as it flowed down his throat. Everything was still here and yet in constant motion. It was odd. The world moved, but he could be still and nothing forced him to run. All the time he’d been in the hospital a ragged restlessness had ruled him. He hadn’t wanted to be in bed and then he hadn’t wanted to stand. Anything they brought him wasn’t quite good enough. No food could fill his gut. No drug could quite make him sleep easy. He’d been on the knife’s edge, cutting himself because he’d been too afraid to fall off.

  Not here. Here things slowed down and the air was sweeter. He’d woken early this morning and a deer had been on the lawn. They’d stood there for the longest time, deer and man existing in the same place, considering each other. It had been a peaceful moment.

  He could finally fucking think in this place.

  But he worried if he left the mountain, he would have to face the fact that he wasn’t the man he’d been.

  What did he want? He sure as hell didn’t want to be a burden to Nate for the rest of his life. Nate blamed himself for what happened, but he shouldn’t. If Zane had been in the same situation, he would have made the same call and yet…

  Nate wasn’t the one who had to look in the mirror every day and see a monster staring back at him. Nate wasn’t the one who knew how fucking mortal and helpless he could be. Nate wasn’t the one who had broken.

  Zane’s eyes slid to the motorcycle that stood beside Nate’s beat up truck. He could get on it and ride off. He could go anywhere and never have to be responsible again. There would be no expectations of him being the man he’d been before the end of the mission. No one would know him or care about him, and there was a certain amount of temptation to the idea.

  But he owed Nate. He needed to make sure Nate was going to get his life back on track. He would make sure Nate was settled down here in Colorado.

  Then he could disappear.

  Chapter Four

  Zane took a deep breath, banishing the thoughts that plagued him. He didn’t have to think out here. He could let it all go. This place was so far from where he’d come from. El Paso had been dusty and hot, the sun scorching everything in its path. The very air had been dry. It was odd because he’d grown up in Texas, was used to hot summers, but something about El Paso had been different.

  Or it had been the job. Maybe it had been the constant tension, the knowledge that any tiny mistake he made would put his life in the balance. And it had.

  Colorado was different. Everything was green here. Alive. This place was so damn alive.

  He watched as Nate’s truck pulled away. They hadn’t spoken this morning. Zane had waited until he was fairly certain Nate was leaving to walk out of his bedroom.

  He stretched and pulled his sneakers on, warming up his long limbs in preparation for his morning run. He liked this time of day, just as the sun was coming up.

  Where was Callie? He was almost certain she was here somewhere. Nate would have told him if she wasn’t. He knew something about her. It was there in the way his shoulders tightened when Zane mentioned her name.

  He started by the road, but quickly turned and jogged up the trail that led down by the river. The Rio Grande wound through the town. This particular spot was a deeper part of the river where he would often see people rafting and canoeing. Not that they saw him. He kept to the trees, preferring the fantasy that he was alone in the world.

  His lungs burned as he climbed up and away from the river.

  At some point he would be on National Forest land, but he didn’t care. If the rangers wanted to run him off let them. And if some bear came along and decided to gnaw on him, then that was how it would be.

  Nothing scared him anymore. He’d lived through the worst. He’d survived torture and pain. He’d lost more than he’d thought he had to lose.

  Sometimes he thought he’d lost his soul.

  He forced his legs to move, pushing past the pain. Hell, he welcomed the pain. The pain reminded him he could still feel something.

  He reached the top of the hill and felt his muscles pushed to their max.

  A field of green spread out in front of him. Perfect green. It was beautiful. Pristine and surrounded by forest, as though someone had carved out a meadow and hidden it.

  A secret place.

  He stood there, dragging air into his lungs and considering that piece of land. He’d run up a ragged spot where no grass would grow but there wasn’t an inch of that ground that wasn’t covered.

  Why was it so perfect when other pieces of land got ruined? What protected it from insects and drought and blight? Why did it thrive?

  Why? Fucking why?

  The question welled inside him. It was always there, always sitting in his gut, eating away at him. Why? Why had he been the one who was tortured? Why hadn’t he died?

  He was still there, still in that chair where he’d learned how weak he was. He’d never fucking gotten out of it.

  Zane took off, running like a madman down the hill and out into that perfect grass. The most insane urge to mess it up overwh
elmed him. He wanted to pull it out, leave his tracks everywhere, maybe piss on it and see if he could get it to die.

  A scream of rage burst from inside him, echoing through the space.

  He stumbled, losing his balance and hitting that ground hard.

  Every muscle pulsed with pain, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

  He stared up at the clearest, bluest sky he’d ever seen.

  If this was his last moment, he would take it. He would lie here in this perfect place and let his body sink into the grass and ground beyond. He could become a part of it.

  He closed his eyes, wishing he could forget everything and simply be.

  “Are you okay?” A soft voice pulled him out of his agony.

  He opened his eyes and stared up at the woman standing above him. She had ridiculously long brown hair and eyes to match. He placed her age at somewhere around thirty, though she could be younger. There was a startling air of innocence about her.

  He was suddenly ridiculously aware that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He never saw anyone on his runs. Naturally the first time he lost his shit, he got caught.

  “Do you understand English? It’s an Earth plane language. Did you fall? I’ve heard there’s a door to another plane somewhere around here, but my mother used to say they can be tricky to find,” she said with a smile. “Might I be the first to say welcome?”

  “Earth plane?” Had he hit his head?

  She nodded and he realized she was carrying a basket. “Yes, that’s what we call this particular plane of existence. Where are you from? You have the look of a mighty warrior. Are you from one of the faery realms? My mother claimed that’s where I’m from. She’s gone now, but she used to tell me all sorts of stories about the Seelie plane. If I had to guess I would say you’re Unseelie, though. They have a bit darker look about them, though they shouldn’t be judged for it.”

  “Lady, are you insane?”

  Her smile widened. “Some people say so. Could you move just a tad to your left? You’re about to ruin some very nice-looking curly dock.”

  Yep, he’d bashed his own head in and now he was in some crazy coma and she was a figment of his imagination. Still, he moved his foot. He rolled over as she knelt down and gently started to work what looked like a weed out of the ground. Her basket was full of green leaves and red berries.

  “You think I’m some kind of fairy? I’m not sure how to take that.”

  She frowned at him. “Why it would be bad to be a fairy?”

  He kind of got the idea that their relationship depended on how he answered that particular question. “It wouldn’t be.”

  “Excellent,” she replied. “And I didn’t really think so. Though I wasn’t joking about the door to other worlds. It’s here somewhere. I know it. It’s precisely why we have so much psychic energy. But I knew you weren’t some lost Fae creature. They don’t tend to wear Nikes. They like boots. Usually made of some kind of leather, and I disapprove of that as well.”

  His whole body hurt, but he was fascinated. Callie had told him this was a strange place with weird people. Of course, she hadn’t put it like that. She’d used words like “magical” and “unique.” This chick must be one of the unique ones.

  “What should boots be made of?”

  She kind of floated over to another patch of ground where she harvested her weeds. “Natural things.”

  “Leather’s pretty natural.” He wasn’t sure why he kept talking, but it had been weeks since he’d had interaction with anyone but Nate, and lately their discussions consisted of whether to watch baseball or football.

  And this chick kind of reminded him of Callie. She probably knew Callie.

  God, he hadn’t realized how lonely he was.

  The woman’s eyes had narrowed. “Yes, leather is natural. It naturally belongs to the cow. How would you feel if someone came along and brutally murdered you and then wore you as boots? You would be pretty upset, wouldn’t you? And we wonder why we have such anxious livestock.”

  “You’re Nell.” He hadn’t forgotten a word Callie had said to him that weekend so long ago. She’d told him about her hometown and her friends there, and she’d mentioned her friend Nell. Nell, the champion of all marginalized creatures great and small. “Nell Finn.”

  “It’s Nell Flanders,” she said with a smile. “I’m married to my soul mate. Henry. He’s as gentle as they come and has such a deep connection to the earth. It’s a beautiful thing to see. How do you know me?”

  He managed to get to his feet. Everything still worked. Mostly. “I had a friend from a long time ago who lived here and told me a lot about the place.”

  He wasn’t about to mention Callie’s name. Nell would likely go right to her and tell her all about the crazy guy in the woods.

  “Well, welcome to Bliss,” she said. She gestured around the meadow. “I’m more than happy to share my grocery store with you.”

  “You run a grocery store?”

  She twirled around, her skirt swirling. “The world is my grocer. I come up here in the mornings to gather ingredients. I like to get them when the morning dew is still fresh on the leaves.”

  “You eat weeds?”

  The prim look was back on her face. “I eat the bounty of nature. I live in harmony with the land.”

  “It is beautiful here.” He would give her that. “I come from a place that wasn’t so pretty. I’m still trying to get used to it.”

  “Is that why I haven’t seen you around town?” She found another mound of nature’s bounty. “I assume you’re the sheriff’s partner.”

  He moved in, kneeling before she could and pulling the plant up for her. He held it out. “Yeah. I guess I need time to see if I can fit in here. I’m not so sure I do.”

  She gave him a beatific smile and accepted the hunk of weed. “Thank you. And why wouldn’t you fit in? You have to know Bliss is a tolerant place. No one will think twice about your lifestyle. Love is love here. Though you might talk to your boyfriend. He’s extremely cranky. I know an excellent shaman who could remove all his negative energy, and he would be so much happier.”

  The thought of Nate meeting with a shaman was pretty damn funny. But what? “Boyfriend?”

  “Oh, are you married? That’s lovely. I wish Marie and Teeny would legalize their union. Not because I particularly believe they must have a piece of paper in order to love each other, but I would love a nice party. Max and Rachel and Rye’s wedding was so lovely. Where did you get married? Henry and I were married right here in Bliss. Everything was recycled, of course, and we had the loveliest vegan cake.”

  “Whoa.” Was that the rumor around town? “Wait. Nate and I aren’t married. Like to anyone. Definitely not to each other.” She started to give him the evil eye again. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. We don’t swing that way. But again, totally cool with people who do.”

  “Then why are you worried you won’t fit in?”

  “Uhm, have you seen my face?”

  “Of course. It’s right there. You are an extremely attractive man. Not as handsome as my Henry, of course, but lovely all the same.”

  “I scare small children.”

  “Well, those must be very anxious children. Their parents should work on that. I’ve found children tend to be more accepting than their adult counterparts.”

  How to make her understand because it was suddenly important that someone did. Maybe if someone understood, he could feel better about the distance between him and Callie. He could feel good and settled that he was doing the right thing by staying away from her. “I’m not this meadow of yours. This place is perfect. It’s so beautiful it almost hurts to look at it. Imagine there was one section of this place that was barren. That would be me. I’m that space and I bring everything around me down. I’m damaged.”

  She stared at him for a moment. “We’re all damaged. We’re all scarred. Sometimes you simply can’t see the scars. Besides, perfection is boring. Perfect things tend to be th
e most fragile.”

  So no understanding there.

  “I’ve got to get back,” she said. “Henry gets worried if I’m gone too long. I hope to see you around town. You’ll like it here if you give it a chance.”

  He nodded, knowing he likely wouldn’t follow her advice. Despite her kindness, he’d come to know that sleepy little towns didn’t welcome people like him.

  She started to walk away, her basket swinging. She stopped at the tree line. “Do you know why this meadow is beautiful and fertile and green?”

  He shook his head.

  “Twenty-five years ago lightning struck here and started a terrible fire that almost took out the town. That happens a lot here in the mountains. The fire burned most of the land you see and for years it was dark. But not barren. You see, all the ash and waste that was left behind, the earth soaked it up and created something new and alive. This place is beautiful because it came through the crucible and survived. If you look closely you can see the signs that this land is scarred, too. It isn’t perfect. It’s strong and alive.” She turned and disappeared into the woods.

  Zane dropped back down, his muscles still weak.

  This place had been barren? It was almost inconceivable, and yet somehow the land had slowly come back, stronger than before.

  Was it possible for a soul to do the same?

  Something moved in the distance. Something large.

  Was that a moose?

  Yep. That was one massive moose. It lumbered out into the meadow, staring at him before huffing and lowering its enormous head to the grass. He started to munch. It appeared Nell shared her grocery store with a lot of creatures.

  He should probably run, but he found himself lying back. If the moose wanted to crush him, he would. Or they could share the space.

  Zane stared up at the perfect sky and wondered if Callie was doing the same.

  * * * *

  “How much longer you planning on keeping me locked up, Johnny Law?”

  Nate gave serious consideration to killing his one and only prisoner. Two weeks into his new life, and he was thinking about going out of it with a bang.