“Well?” Kane pressed.
“Mitch Colony is back in town.”
Kane stepped away from the truck. “Ah, hell.”
Braden frowned. “Not what I wanted to hear.”
“Did you know?”
“Of course we didn’t know,” Kane snapped. “What kind of foolish question is that?”
“Foolish for sure,” Brock grumbled.
“Has Trixie talked to him?” Braden asked.
“No, not yet.”
“Have
you
?” Kane asked.
“Yeah. Rory and I just left him.”
“How’d that work out for ya?” Braden asked, smirking.
Kane shot him a glare. “This isn’t a laughing matter.”
“No it isn’t,” Braden agreed. “But it’s not a parental matter either.”
“I’ll agree with you there. Like I told you, I shouldn’t have come.”
“Then why did you?” Kane asked. “What was on your mind when you were flying over here like a bat out of hell?”
“Beats me. I’m just pissed off.”
Braden laid his hand on Brock’s forearm. “Son, if he’s trying to see her, she will see him. She won’t stop until she does. They have a history, a past you and Rory were part of. The last thing you want to do is put her in a compromising situation.”
“I know,” Brock admitted. “I just don’t like it.”
“Well, take it from me,” Braden said, returning to the house. “You won’t stop this. The wheels are already in motion.”
Braden left them. A minute or so later, Kane asked, “Want me to talk to her?”
“So you can, what…tell her I came over to tattle?”
Kane laughed. “I ought to fry your ass, by God.” His laughter subsided and he added, “It ain’t easy for a man like me to see a man like you with his daughter.”
“I’m sure that’s true.”
“But you love her and I believe that. I know you’d never do anything to harm her. And I feel damn fortunate to have you for a son-in-law.” He paused and acted as if he wouldn’t say whatever was lingering on the tip of his tongue. Then he finally relented. “I’ll never feel that way about Colony and I’d be happy as hell to tell Trixie the same. He’ll never settle down. He’s been spoiled. He doesn’t have a clue what it takes to be a man. The only thing he’ll do is bring my daughter pain. In the end, Mitch Colony will disrupt your family.”
“My thoughts exactly. That’s why Trixie can’t see him.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not your decision,” Kane said.
Brock disagreed there. He had a say in this situation. He just wasn’t sure how he wanted to word everything with Trixie. Where Mitch was concerned, dealing with Trixie was like handling fine china. One never knew when she might break.
“He’ll only hurt her, Kane.”
“That’s about the straight of it.”
Brock held out his hand and Kane returned his keys.
Kane gripped the truck door with both hands and a stark look of concern washed across his face. “Brock, when you get home, you need to tell Trixie you saw Mitch. She’s gonna find it out anyway because if I know Colony, he’ll show up on your doorstep in the middle of the night and make sure she knows you and Rory paid him a visit. You let her hear that from you. If you don’t, she’ll never forgive you.”
“She’ll never forgive me for what I said to him. And knowing Mitch, he’s already plotted how he’ll tell her.”
“What did you say exactly?”
“I told him he’d play hell getting to her.”
“I see,” Kane said, stroking his chin. “Well then, son, here’s what you do. You make good on that promise. Peyton and I will be over at your place in the morning. Have the kids ready. They can stay with us and you can take Trixie on a little retreat. It would do you some good to get away for a while.”
“You want us to leave tomorrow?”
“I’d have you packing now if I didn’t cherish my sleep,” Kane said, inching closer with unwavering determination burning in his eyes. “You listen to me, Brock. There are certain times in a man’s life when he must be as good as his word. This here situation is a prime example.
“If you told Colony he’d play hell getting to my daughter, then you make that promise count. You take her out of town and stay out of town until he’s gone. I’ll have Pete work with you so you can keep tabs on Colony’s whereabouts. But you leave. You make sure Colony doesn’t come near my daughter unless he works his ass off to find her.”
“And what if he does?”
“He won’t.” Kane grinned. “But if he does? Then maybe you and I can admit we were wrong.” He slapped his hand against the truck and added, “Let’s see what Colony is made of. If I’m right, we won’t have to wait too long. He’ll run off and find another woman and sooner or later, Trixie will realize he’s right where he belongs.”
* * * *
Cash couldn’t sleep. Ghosts from the past existed around him, only he didn’t know their names. He couldn’t see their faces, but they were there, taunting him, laughing at him, poking fun at him because those ghosts knew he was desperate.
He longed to know what he’d missed. He wanted just a small glimpse of life as it was, as it had been for those who’d lived and worked there at Cow Camp.
Tossing and turning, he finally left the bed and stood at the floor-to-ceiling window. The full moon shone on a recently cleared path leading from the stables to the main camp, a camp that hadn’t been in operation since Mitch Colony’s incarceration.
Surprisingly, the grounds had been well kept. Sure, there were some obvious repairs to be made—gates to put up, paint to apply—but overall the place looked like a rustic camp someone still frequented.
The groundskeepers must’ve known Colony had been recently released. He shuddered at the thought as a cool waft of air flew out of the vents high above him.
He had to admit, he hadn’t expected electricity and running water. All things considered, he viewed the utilities as extra benefits.
Cash walked in the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and grabbed an orange juice. He’d have to remember to thank Colony for his hospitality. No, the residential quarters weren’t stocked, but the utilities were on and the grounds were inviting. Hell, he even had access to the boat keys and a few camp vehicles.
Fresh out of prison, and Cash already felt like he’d hit pay dirt. His brother would’ve set him up, but he wouldn’t have provided a lakefront estate. Here, he even had an Olympic-size swimming pool. Then again, he couldn’t rejoice over that one. Damn thing looked like a science project with its overgrowth of algae.
He narrowed his eyes on the kitchen table. A few pictures of Trixie Cartwell were scattered about. Those images were familiar. Given the fact they had tiny pinholes in the corners, Cash believed the snapshots may have been those Stephen Pratchert had once displayed on his prison cell wall.
Maybe this was where Stephen Pratchert spent the last days of his life. He wondered why the groundskeeper had seemingly cleaned around all of the personal effects left behind, particularly since the property had been abandoned for over seven years.
Stilled by what he saw in the glossy images, Cash couldn’t escape a nagging suspicion that maybe a groundskeeper hadn’t been employed by Colony. Perhaps the Cartwell woman had been there. If so, would she return again?
Cash went rigid. His cock throbbed in agitation. He’d become accustomed to his growing anxiety whenever he thought of her. The pictures only made him long for her more. Trixie held his future in the palm of her hand, and soon she would realize how much she meant to him.
Without a doubt, one day they would be together forever. It was written in stone, sealed as his fate. And Cash believed in sanctified destinies.
“Soon, Trixie,” he muttered, growing more anxious by the second as he glanced around at the apartment’s appointments. He paid closer attention to details then.
The color scheme and décor suggested a woman had decorated the place. There were matching rose pillows with needlepoint stitching. Large frames housed floral prints and fake potted plants added character to every corner.
“That’s it. That’s why these quarters are well maintained.”
Trixie Cartwell had been there. It was the only explanation for the well-kept grounds and various memorabilia left behind.
There wasn’t a groundskeeper. The reason everything looked untouched was because Trixie Cartwell couldn’t let go of the past. And even though Mitch Colony had been in prison, his work at Cow Camp had not been in vain.
Trixie must’ve returned there on occasion. She must’ve kept things in running order, on the chance Mitch was freed on short notice. They were friends, after all. Weren’t they?
Cash slipped his hand down the front of his slacks and wrapped his flaccid cock in a loose fist. He narrowed his gaze on his favorite Trixie image and pumped his dick, determined to make love to her right then and there. Some might say the fucking was only an illusion, but later he’d share these very special memories with the woman of his dreams.
“Ah yes. If only you were here, my darling.”
He moistened his lips and tried to imagine her before him. She was standing on the dock wearing white-washed denim shorts and a fitted navy halter, tied under her perky breasts. She struck an inviting pose with her index finger crooked. The come-hither look was designed to seduce a man—perhaps even him.
“Ah, baby lady. Mitch didn’t return for you, but I’m here instead. And I promise, my love, I will wait for you. One day soon, we’ll be together for the rest of all time.”
Brock tossed the last of the luggage in their SUV and turned to Trixie, now saying good-bye to Winter and Cazeron.
“Is that everything?” Rory asked, following Brock back to the house.
“I believe so,” Brock replied right as his cell phone buzzed in his pocket.
“Who’s calling at this time of the morning?”
“Bertie from Cow Camp,” Brock replied. “Let me tell her we’ll be staying there for a bit and I’ll be right out.”
“This is Brock Sheldon,” he said, taking the call.
“Brock, this is Bertie. I wanted to touch base. Claude had a heart attack.”
“Oh, Bertie, I’m sorry to hear that.” Bertie and Claude had taken care of Cow Camp for nearly three decades. The older couple had originally worked for Mitch’s parents.
“Well, it’s gonna be just fine,” she said, forever the optimist. “The doctor said this was a little warning sent from above. That’s the way we’re gonna look at this thing, but I wanted you to know that I haven’t been out to the camp in three or four days. You know Claude. He hates for me to go all the way out there alone. I’m sorry, Brock. I can’t leave Claude right now and I just don’t know how I can manage the place on my own.”
“Hey listen. No problem. In fact, I was planning to call you. Rory and I are taking Trixie out of town today. We’re headed north but I wanted to swing by the lodge and stay for a night or two.”
“The camp is in outstanding order,” she said proudly. “We had high hopes, you know. We had thought Mitch might want to reopen the place. We worked hard to make sure the property was just as he’d left it before he was sentenced.”
Brock smiled to himself. The couple had actually gone out of their way to leave the camp precisely as Mitch had left the facilities. He and Rory had driven to Abingdon the year before. It was almost eerie. Cow Camp hadn’t changed a bit in the seven years since they’d been there.
“Tell you what, since Claude isn’t well, you take off a month. I’ll make sure someone tends to the place.”
“Oh, Brock, I can’t put that on you.”
“Hush now. Yes you can. Mitch would want us to take care of the property and give you time to nurse Claude back to good health.”
After their meeting with Mitch, he was one hundred percent certain Mitch wouldn’t want them anywhere near the place, which was all the more reason they were stopping over for a few nights. He wouldn’t think to look for them there.
“Mitch ought to get his little fanny back over there. A lot of kids had hoped he’d reopen the camp.” A heavy sigh filled the line. “He called, you know.”
“He did?”
“Yes. He wanted us to know he was out. Claude asked him if he planned to reopen the camp. He said he didn’t want to think about it. Makes me damn mad if you want the straight of it.” She clucked. “Have you heard from him?”
“I saw him yesterday, as a matter of fact.”
“You did?” Her excitement couldn’t be contained. “Well how is he? You tell him I asked about him when you talk to him again. Will you?”
Brock smiled to himself. Poor old Bertie. She could bitch about Mitch all day long, but down deep the woman loved him better than peaches on brownies.
“I will indeed,” Brock said, realizing he probably wouldn’t see him again until they returned from Abingdon.
He couldn’t help but feel a little sinister. He and Rory were taking Trixie to Cow Camp for a retreat, but they were running away from the man who owned the camp, a man who would sit in his hotel room and anticipate their return.
Yes, Cow Camp was the perfect place for them to go. Mitch would never think to look for them there and he wouldn’t return there himself because of the daunting cruel reminders of the past.