Attracted to Fire (18 page)

“Do you know where we can get those?”

“I'll find out and have Wade make the travel arrangements for me.” Chip fired back his response. “Do you need the source of a cat and a few chickens in writing?”

“You bet I do.” Ash turned and walked downstairs to the operation room. Why did Meghan's room have the scorpion problem when she would have a potentially life-threatening reaction to an insect sting? He didn't believe in coincidences.

The operation door was open, ensuring the agents had heard the upstairs shouting. Victor pecked away at the keyboard while Wade labored over a layout of the ranch for the security cameras. Neither man spoke, and why should they? For too long he'd made a point of being a pain in the rear, so no agent would ever be killed or wounded because of him. What thanks had he gotten in return?

Standing in front of the window, he looked out at the patio where Lindsay and Meghan appeared engaged in a conversation. Meghan's shift had barely begun, and even with no sleep, she looked amazing. Scratch that last thought. She looked good for an agent without much sleep. Meghan had gotten further with Lindsay in a few weeks than he had in four years. The agent was a professional, and she respected Lindsay.

Chip was right, and Ash was tired of alienating himself from others. In rare moments, he showed the side of him that he used to be. But the old Ash had allowed his best friend to get killed. These were his friends, his team members. He felt as responsible for them as he did for Lindsay.

“You don't have to carry it all.” Victor's voice rose slightly over the steady clicking of the keyboard.

“Yes, I do. I don't have a choice.”

After supper that night, Meghan slid into an ergonomically correct chair and reached inside her laptop case for a layout of the house. Exhaustion had settled in her bones, and sand had invaded her eyes. She wanted to crawl into bed but not yet. Glancing at the clock, she mentally checked herself out at 2100 and no later—if she made it until then. Until last night, she'd managed four hours of sleep for the past five days, and now her body demanded a deposit to cover the deficit.

Before the next few days were over, this property would resemble a compound. The exterior doors and windows were to be wired to detect those attempting to get in and a certain young lady from getting out. Meghan questioned whether the latter was necessary. Lindsay had shown progress. But did she still view the ranch as a prison? How tragic that the young woman needed protection from her own willful ways.

Feeling herself slipping into a sleep zone, she scooted back from the table and walked outside onto the front lawn, green and perfectly manicured, courtesy of Ethan and Chip. To the left of the lawn, an ancient oak tree spread its gnarled branches in every direction as though daring an intruder to step near the house. How tempting to curl up beneath the old tree and let the troubles of her life slip away.

Meghan shook her head, realizing the lack of sleep had caused her thoughts to drift. As long as daylight stretched across the horizon, the work around her continued. Since dawn vehicles had poured through the gate bringing equipment and specialists. The county sheriff had been informed about Lindsay's strategic position and the need to keep her whereabouts secret. Jean-clad agents covered the grounds like ants at a picnic. Rovers posted in jeeps and trucks would stop anyone jumping the fences, and the mounted cameras brought in a good feed. By the time the security plan was implemented, cameras, thermal imagers, and other up-to-date technology would be in place.

“I'm wondering how long it would take to string barbed wire along the property lining the road?”

At the sound of Ash's voice, Meghan cringed. She'd avoided him all day, and now he'd singled her out. “With the other security measures soon to be in place, is that precaution necessary?”

“Since those who threatened her haven't been arrested, I'd say twenty-foot-high barbed wire wouldn't be enough. Call me a daddy grizzly.”

The image fit. She studied the cameras mounted at the gates, silently questioning their position—anything to keep her attention from Ash. He made her nervous. He caused her to shiver in ninety-five-degree temps, and her lips still tasted his kiss. The one she'd claimed she didn't want. “What did Warrington say about barbed wire?”

“Never asked. He'd say it was over the top. Is the alarm system working?”

“Hopefully tomorrow.” She prepared herself for his complaint.

“Good. I saw you looking at the cameras. We're close to having the electronic motion sensors and the infrared high-definition daylight cameras in place. Wish we could expedite the installation.”

“We're still out of the media's eye.”

“For now.”

She refused to look at him, fighting her irresponsible attraction. “When do we find out if we're being replaced?”

“Soon. Look, Meghan, I'm sorry a—”

“We deleted it, remember?”

“Wish it were that easy. I feel like a jerk.” His attention moved to the front gate. “I am a jerk.”

Grasping an ounce of strength, she faced him. “It's over. Done. I don't want to talk about it again.”

“Just wanted to make sure you're okay.” He spoke in a whisper.

Did he think the trees were listening? The man confused and frustrated her. “When I need a doctor or a shrink, I'll let you know. In the meantime, I have work to do. You have work to do.”

He stepped back.

Meghan blew out a sigh. “I'm sorry. Just tired.” She started to add she hadn't slept well for several days but decided Ash could survive without her personal information.

“Why don't you call it a day?”

“I still have a few things to do.”

He chuckled. “Now you sound like me.”

Not so sure that was a compliment.
“I make a list every day of what I need to accomplish, and today's isn't completed.”

“Meghan.”

The familiar chill bumps rose, and her face became flushed. “Yes, sir.”

“The name's Ash. I'm not good at this, but could we be friends?”

“I suppose.”

“Thanks. I'll leave you alone to your thoughts.” He took a few steps toward the front gate, then whirled around. “You're messing with my mind. Not sure how to handle it.”

She certainly didn't know how to respond to that comment.

Chapter 28

Sunday evening of Father's Day, Meghan gathered with the team, Dave and Carla, and Lindsay around a long table on the patio for supper. Pepper flipped hamburgers on the grill, with the option of jalapeño or plain. She'd spent the afternoon in Ethan's garden, and the table displayed mounds of fresh vegetables. Maybe their cook was mellowing. The group looked more like friends ready to enjoy a barbecue than Secret Service agents keeping an eye on their protectee. The pool sparkled, but no one ventured toward its tepid waters. They were all celebrating the completion of the security detail.

Chip walked toward the group, wearing a smile that would rival a model on a New York runway. With his guitar slung over his shoulder, he reminded Meghan of his promised concert.

“Where's your dad?” Rick glanced up from the far end of the table, where he was reading something.

“He's going to church. Said we could save him a burger. Without jalapeños.”

A chuckle rose from the group, but Pepper silenced them with a glare. “Too bad if I forget about the corn and burn it. Worse yet, if I forget the carrot cake.”

“I'm not complaining.” Ash sounded like a little boy. “She made me a special burger.”

“I like the peppers.” Rick turned his attention back to the paper before him.

“What are you doing?” Ash tossed a radish at him.

So A2Z had chosen to act like a human today. If Meghan were honest with herself, she'd admit he'd displayed likable traits before.

“Working on something for my daughter.” Rick grinned and tossed back the radish. Normally the broad-shouldered man had little to say.

A sparkle lit Ash's eyes. “Why don't we believe you?”

He leaned back. All eyes were on him. “It's serious business when it concerns my daughter.”

“Which one?”

“The sixteen-year-old.”

Ash moved to Rick's end of the table and snatched the piece of paper. He read it and howled. “This is a note from some guy.”

“Exactly. I'm analyzing his handwriting.” He tapped his pen on the edge of the table. “She isn't dating this guy. Period.”

Meghan knew a little about handwriting but not enough to jump into the conversation.

Ash nodded. “Yeah, look at how large he writes. He thinks a lot about himself . . . and his possessions. Probably selfish. I bet he's motivated by his own lusts.”

Moans filled the air.

“And look how hard he pressed on the paper. Is he strong or determined to coax your baby girl into doing something she shouldn't?”

Rick snatched the paper. “I already told you she isn't dating him. He killed any thought of that when he wrote this note and allowed me to tear into his psychological makeup. The boy can prey on someone else.”

“Better call her.” Ash patted him on the back. “I'm not an expert in analyzing handwriting, but I wouldn't want him around my daughter.”

“Hey.” Wade stood. “Today's Father's Day, and I haven't gotten a call.”

Pepper lifted a platter of burgers from the side of the grill to the table. “What about a text?”

Wade pulled out his phone. “I muted it when I went on duty.” He checked his phone. “My own stupid fault. They called, and I missed it.”

“Better return it.” Ash laughed. “I won't let anyone eat your burger.”

Wade sprinted to the other side of the pool. Great family man. Great guy, just like all of them. Meghan glanced up and met Ash's gaze. Instead of diverting her attention, he smiled.

She returned the gesture. So he wanted to be friends. . . .

“Did you guys call your families?” Ash lifted his glass of iced tea. “Better do so before we eat.”

Meghan wished her father were alive so she could send her love. “What about you, Ash? Did you call home?”

He nodded. “I did.”

“You have a father?” Only Victor could get by with that question.

“I do. The rumors I came from the planet Krypton are unfounded.”

Victor took a very rare burger from Pepper. “The one I heard indicated something about a rock.”

“Very funny. There's a reason why you always pull the graveyard shift.”

Meghan wanted to study Ash but feared he'd discover her trying to read him. Such a complex man. She thought he hid a few things. Maybe someday she'd discover what those things were.

Earlier Lindsay asked Meghan for permission to text her dad about Father's Day. Their protectee did care about her family, despite her own words to the contrary.

After they ate and helped Pepper take the leftovers and dishes inside, the camaraderie continued.

“Ready for a Texas-style concert?” Chip pulled his chair away from the table.

“I am.” Lindsay flashed him a smile and pulled Chesney into her lap. The terrier snuggled up to her like a long-lost friend. “Why don't you sit closer to me?”

“No, thanks. I need room.” Chip must need to concentrate. The Dancin' Dust had enough problems without Lindsay zooming in on him, especially with the suspicion surrounding the ranch hand's questionable actions.

He played a few chords, then broke into a tune made famous by Keith Urban, followed by another song by Kenny Chesney. Lindsay clapped and asked for more. Three songs later, Chip set his guitar on a lounge chair and pulled a bottle of water from the ice chest.

“Mind if I take a look at your guitar?” Lindsay's soft voice didn't give any man much of a chance to refuse.

“Not at all. Do you play?”

“A little.”

Meghan just learned something new. She'd wondered why Lindsay kept her nails short, and now she knew the reason.

“Thanks. Mine is under my bed at my apartment. If I'd known I was headed for a vacation, I'd have packed it.”

Chip handed her his guitar. “Now it's your turn.”

Lindsay didn't hesitate. She sat on the edge of a patio chair and began to strum a familiar tune.

“Isn't that an old Reba song?” Chip leaned in closer. “‘Fancy'?”

“It is. One of my favorites.”

“Can you sing it?” His gentle voice coaxed a smile from Lindsay. “I've seen Reba perform live. Always a great show.”

“Me too.” Without looking up, she played and sang the tune that caused Reba fans to go wild. When she finished, the entire group clapped.

“You are good.” Meghan emphasized the last word, and she hadn't stretched the truth.

“Better than good,” Chip said. “You have a set of lungs, girl.”

Lindsay held out his guitar. “Thanks.”

“Keep it,” Chip said. “We all need another song.”