"How did you sneak up on me so quietly before?" I followed Liam along the front of the barn, still marveling at the utter silence. No wind. No peeping frogs. No chirping crickets or yipping coyotes. Not even the creaking wooden song of the trees came out of the darkness.
"Bet not many sneak up on you," he said, marching on without turning. "Am I the first?"
"Why are you avoiding my question?"
He whirled around, the bright light of the full moon spilling over his face. A frown pulled at the corners of his mouth. When I didn't let up on my stare, he sighed. "I was sittin' on the rail fence on the far side of the house when you came down the hill. When you were distracted, I crept up. Happy now?"
I narrowed my eyes. "Okay. Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why were you sitting on your fence half naked holding a gun?" And I thought I had issues.
"Hey, I wasn't—" He twisted his head away. The muscles in his arms corded beneath his skin as he flexed and relaxed his fingers. After a brief silence, he rolled his shoulders and ran fingers through his hair, causing mine to tingle. "I've been muckin' around in the storage bins all day. Didn't bother with a shirt 'cause it's nasty work. And someone's been stealin' my tools, so I thought I'd catch 'em in the act. There's lots of folk around these parts who deserve your suspicion, but I'm not one of 'em."
It sounded reasonable. "If you were so close by, how come you didn't hear Mr. Psycho going at that boy? You must have heard him screaming. Hell, I was half a mile away up the ridge, and I heard him loud and clear."
Chuckling, Liam rubbed his fingers along his temples, as if he had a headache. People did that a lot around me. "They're always messin' around. If I came runnin' every time I heard 'em carryin' on, I'd be out here all damn night."
Lazy or a wuss? I had no use for either. "You don't sound like you're from Pennsylvania."
Liam smiled. It wasn't humor this time, but a baring of teeth. He resumed his course along the barn. "You know, I got enough problems. I don't need this shit."
I jogged to match his long stride. "Look, I'm sorry, I'm just—"
"Paranoid? Suspicious?" He threw up a hand. "Stubborn as a Goddamn mule?"
I wanted to say 'if you had a diamond-eyed freak hunting you across two countries you'd be that way too,' but I didn't. "I'm curious by nature and cautious by necessity, that's all."
We came to a faded grey shed with a crooked door. The one Garret had run from earlier. A motion light came on as we neared it. Liam faced me and crossed his arms. "Curious, huh?"
For a distraction, I dug the toe of my boot into the grass. "Yeah, just like you."
"Yeah, I suppose I am." He nodded, grinned. "Uncle died a few years back and left me the place. When things went to hell overseas, and the riots and shootin's picked up here, I moved up from Arkansas and took it over. It was real run down when I got here, and thieves had picked it clean."
"What did you do in Arkansas?"
"I was a cop."
I knew it—cop eyes. "That's what I took you for, either a cop or a P.I. Nobody else picks up details like you do."
Liam leaned closer, squinted as if trying to see past my skin. "Is that what's huntin' you, a P.I.?"
I snorted and cast my face up to the moon. For reasons I couldn't identify, I considered telling him everything. Not that he'd believe me anyway, and the fewer people I allowed near me, the fewer I'd hurt by accident, and the fewer in the sights of my hunter.
"What, so I spill my guts, but you tell me squat? Hardly seems fair."
I stared until he squirmed and dropped his gaze to his beige work boots. "Do you miss it?"
"What? Bein' a cop?"
"No, home—Arkansas."
He nodded. "Some parts, I suppose. Friends, some family, but here I don't have to fish babies out of the bathtub after their momma drowned them thinkin' the end of the world was comin', or draw chalk lines on the floors of folks shootin' neighbors over stupid shit like stolen weed whackers. I don't have to deal with the constant paranoia that the government's gonna drop the big one and send us to kingdom come the way Russia, North Korea, and the middle east blew themselves off the map six years ago."
"You don't know that's what happened," I said, my hands rising with my frustration. "Why would the leaders bomb each other on the same day for no reason whatsoever? And where did they get weapons that could cause craters a mile deep? There's nothing left now but rubble and bones, leaders and all."
His eyes turned cold and hard as stone. Not easy for brown eyes to get that way. "Maybe they figured out the human race is what's wrong with things and decided to take their theory to the extreme." A disgruntled laugh spilled out of him. "Frankly, that sounds like a damn good idea to me."
"Am I hearing you right?" I hugged myself so I wouldn't come apart. "So all of the countries whose economy folded after the bombs fell, all of their people starving to death day after day—are you telling me you don't feel anything for them? People are dying by the thousands, shot in their own front yards for a few bottles of water, raped and beaten to death by some sick bastard for the sheer entertainment of it—" I closed my eyes, concentrating to block memories that threatened to drown me, before opening them again.
"Of course I feel for them." He sighed and looked everywhere but at me. "I'm not heartless, but I've seen enough horrible shit to stain the soul. Maybe when most of us are gone, we'll live off the land again like we're supposed to. The whole world's gone to shit, but I figure I can survive out here even when the American cities start to burn."
"When they start to burn? You don't get out much, do you?" A growl burned in my throat. "So you'll shove the whole mess under the carpet. You could have helped people if you were still a cop. Did you run up here because you're afraid?" My internal pot simmered again. Hot tendrils of power surged down my arms.
Eyes narrowing to slits, he thrust a finger at me. "What I am is a survivor, like you. If the rest of the savages want to shoot each other full of holes and sack their towns, then who am I to stand in their way? Good riddance."
"That's a piss-poor attitude to have."
"This from the one runnin' across country with her tail between her legs. You don't strike me as the kind to help anyone but yourself. What the hell could you do, anyway? You're just a girl."
My mouth dropped open, and I launched words at him like cannonballs. "Just a—you don't know shit about me. I'm not running because I'm scared, you ass, I'm running because I made a promise to my mother."
With my unintentional admission, my heart fell into my shoes.
Fuck.
I straightened and rolled my head until my neck cracked. "At least I try to help when I can, instead of turning a blind eye to the problem." I gestured to the shed where Garret went with the psycho douche.
Liam squinted at me. "What promise did you make to your mother?"
I launched myself past him, walked up to the grey shed, and threw the slat door open. "Is this where I'll be staying?"
Inside, I found Rourke, Garret, and two other men sitting on upturned logs around an overturned basket, playing cards. They stopped and stared at me.
Liam grumbled to himself as he came in after me.
"Looks like the boss found himself a new lay," a round faced man said, his voice raspy, most likely from smoking too much. He stood and lumbered toward me, pinching an unlit cigarette in the corner of his thin lips. "Boy, don't those legs go alllll the way up. A brunette, huh? You'd look better as a blonde. What's your name, sweetheart?" The cigarette bounced with the words.
Liam opened his mouth, but I put my hand up. "I got this." I turned back to Mr. Sweetheart and manufactured a smile. "I'm Laura, and here's how it's going to be."
Garret stood beside me, the tension surrounding him like sandpaper against my skin. Rourke slouched beside Mr. Sweetheart, casting his chilled stare at me again. The other one remained sitting. He had a flat topped, grey crew cut, sneering at me as if I'd kicked his mother.
I shoved my hands into my pockets and took a moment to catch their eyes. "I'm not interested in the size of your Johnson, or what a Superman you are in the sack. I'm here to work."
"Where the fuck did you find this one, boss?" Mr. Sweetheart snorted. His light brown hair frizzed around his head like a wad of steel wool. "Lady down the road set you up with this one, too? The hairdresser was sluttier. I liked her."
That would explain the haircut. When I looked at Liam, he was inspecting the rafters—look, a flying buffalo, really—and his cheeks had turned to smears of crimson.
Turning back to Mr. Sweetheart, I ripped the cigarette from his lips and pressed a finger into his chest. "What's your name?" I concentrated, peeling the magic away from my eyes long enough for him to catch a glimpse of their true color. He'd still see the deep blue, but aqua and gold would swirl in constant motion around the pupil, like a nebula in an alien universe his mind wouldn't comprehend.
Mr. Sweetheart glared at me and opened his mouth—probably ready to chew me out for taking his smoke—but hesitated, swallowing hard. "Name's Clancy."
"Well, Clancy, I don't care what you think of me. Just keep your smut in your mouth and your hands to yourself, and we won't have a problem. Got it?"
I pushed him away and looked around the shed. A few cots dotted the floor. Stacks of bushel baskets were stacked along the far wall, aluminum ladders hung on wooden pegs next to coils of thick, blue rope, and a well-trodden dirt floor lay under it all. Practically Shangri-La compared to some of the places I'd stayed over the years.
"You can't make me work with that broad," Clancy said to Liam.
Rourke burst into maniacal laughter.
"Never thought I'd see the day." Liam chuckled. "Clancy Moore, afraid of a woman. You're carryin' on like she put a gun to you instead of her finger."
"Might as well have," Clancy whispered, his gaze shifting from me to Liam."Those eyes, they're—Jesus H. If she'd had a gun on me, she'd a pulled the trigger. Bitch is crazy."
I leaned against the door frame, a smile twitching my lips. I'd rather they thought I was crazy than something they could screw.
By the crinkle around Liam's eyes, his hand concealed a grin. The others—all but Grey Brush Cut—stood still, laughter shining in their eyes, and their shoulders heaving to keep it in. It took a little weight off my heart to see Garret looking something other than terrified.
"Think I'll sleep in the barn." Clancy snatched a blanket from the floor. When I moved aside to give him some room, he bolted past me like a frightened rabbit. The door clapped shut behind him, and gut-wrenching laughter roared in the shed. Even I joined in—a rare occasion for me.
If I had to guess, poor Clancy would never hear the end of this night. It should have bothered me a little bit, but he asked for it, so it didn't.
"Drop your pack, and I'll give you the grand tour." Liam headed for the door.
"I'll bring it, if it's all the same to you."
His head dropped forward, before he turned with a smile. "No point in arguin' with you, I suppose."
The motion light came on again as I followed Liam around the side of the shack to a small building with a roughly hung door. Beside it, a pump handle sat on top of an old cement trough.
"Bathroom." Liam pointed to the outhouse. "Drink and wash water." He pointed to the pump. "And that concludes our tour, except for the river on the far side of the barn."
"A regular four star resort." I trailed my fingertips along the rough edge of the trough.
A dimple sank into his left cheek. I stared at him a little too long before heading for the pump and drawing some water into my hand to drink.
"I think I owe you an apology." Liam sat on the end of the trough, still sniggering. "If there's any screamin' going on here tonight, I don't think it'll be you doin' it."
"Told you." I splashed the rest of the water on my face and neck. What I needed was a cold shower.
"So, would you have?"
I straightened, brows pushed together. "Would I what?"
"Pulled the trigger on Clancy."
My muscles tightened. "Only cowards use guns."
Liam wiped a hand down his face. His smile vanished. "You callin' me a coward again?"
I shrugged.
"You're sure a master at evadin' questions you don't like."
"Stop asking me personal questions, and I'll stop not answering you." You'd think he would have figured that out by now. Good looking and persistent—a dangerous combination.
Liam stood and ambled along the path toward the house. He stopped, opened his mouth a few times, but kept laughing. "You're not like anyone I ever met."
"That's probably a good thing." A ridiculous grin crept up on me before I could squash it.
"You have a real pretty smile, Laura. You should wear it more often."
I backed toward the outhouse, steam building under my shirt as I stumbled over my own feet. Thankfully, I didn't go down, though my cheeks blazed. "Well, I need to... uh..." I thrust my thumb over my shoulder.
"Breakfast at day break.We start pickin' right after. Need a wake-up call?"
"I'll be up." My shoulders raised in a small shrug. "Light sleeper."
"Of course you are. You be nice to those boys now, you hear?" Offering a wink and a crooked grin, he disappeared into the dark.
I flopped down on the grass beside the trough and put my forehead down on my bent knees. The flutter in my guts confused me. Clumsy didn't typically appear on my list of issues. Liam was handsome and charming, but a man shouldn't be able to change my body temperature or pull personal details from my mouth no matter how lonely and sex starved I was.
Whatever had drawn me to the Conner farm had messed with me in more ways than one.
I needed to pick my butt off the grass and find the source.