The Drake House

Chapter 8

Once again, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes grew wide with amusement. "So, you know about the place we do not speak of." She chuckled and pointed through the rows of apple trees. "See where my trees stop and the forest begins? It's over there."

"Tell me, what's the big secret?" He lifted his brows, testing how open she was willing to be. No one else had been.

"Well, rumor has it Alexandra Drake was stood up at the altar by her true love. In response, she secluded herself in a great house, surrounded by trees, out of view from the outside world. She vowed to never come out and cursed all who entered her world. Some say she was a witch, others that she was a dangerous murderer." Trisha began heading toward her house, leading Nick as she went. "I was very young when she died, but I remember people were not nice to her. I only saw her the one time, and she just looked sad to me. I don't know how she died, probably of loneliness, but the county owns the property now. No one disturbs it. There's lots of superstition in this town."

"You don't seem the superstitious type to me."

She stepped onto her porch as he followed. "I'm not. But I do have to admit, I get strange feelings when I-"

The front door opened, cutting her off, and Brad poked his head out. "Sorry to interrupt." He eyed the two of them.

He didn't look sorry.

Trisha gestured for Nick to follow her into the house. "You're back early." She turned to Brad, stripping off her coat. "Oh, what happened?" She dragged Brad's bloody knuckle into her hands.

Yeah, definitely a past between those two.

Before Brad could answer, she was tugging him through the entryway, living room, and into the kitchen to run his hand under water.

Nick sat at the table out of the way as she cleaned Brad's knuckle.

"Bar fight," Brad uttered, his tone gruff.

Trisha clucked her tongue. "Idiot."

"Eduardo's upstairs with Nancy. He's got a black eye." Wayne entered the room. "Can't let you boys go anywhere."

Brad winced as she dried his hand.

"Nick, can you go in my bathroom over there?" Trish pointed. "There's gauze and tape above the sink."

"It's fine," Brad claimed.

Nick did as asked, returning swiftly so she could finish bandaging.

"What caused a fight this time?" She directed the question softly to Brad, but Wayne appeared more interested than Trisha.

If Nick didn't know any better, he'd swear her and Brad were in love. There was trust, worry, and understanding between them. But, at dinner, she'd claimed they were best friends and he worked for her. Nick wasn't buying it. And no way was he getting in the middle of it.

"Some moron made reference to you being up here alone with all these men and I started punching." Brad shrugged. "I lost it when the word slut was thrown in for good measure."

Nick ground his jaw. Nothing about her screamed promiscuous.

She swallowed, attention only for Brad. "It wasn't about?"

Brad shook his head, barely a movement really, causing Trisha to sigh.

What was that about?

"Idiot." Trisha's shoulders tensed and she sighed harshly.

Wayne sat down across from Nick at the table and chuckled. "Be lucky I wasn't there, son. I'd have put you in lock up for drunk and disorderly."

"I wasn't drinking."

Trisha smacked Brad upside his head. "You don't need to drink. You're already an i***t without being intoxicated."

Brad's eyes flared. Nick stood to intervene out of instinct, knowing what a look like that meant, when Wayne put a hand on his arm. Leaning over he whispered, "Watch this." Reluctantly, Nick sat back down.

"Some guy starts bad-mouthing you, without you even being there, and I'm the i***t? I defend you, and I'm the i***t?" Brad straightened, and Nick caught a glimpse of the fire under the guy's surface.

"I don't give a damn what some guy says about me!" Trisha fired back. "I care how you respond as if I can't defend myself. All you did was manage to provoke more suspicion in his already warped mind. Everyone knows us here. They know absolutely nothing goes on. They have zilch to talk about and wanted you riled up. That makes you the idiot."

"Fine, I'm sorry!"

"Good!" she yelled back and, after a beat, smiled arrogantly. She kissed his bandaged hand. "Do I need to check on anyone else?"

"Chuck's got a bloody lip, but he's passed out at the ranch house."

She rolled her eyes, grunted, and then muttered, "All right, go to bed."

Brad exited through the back door and there was nothing more said about the matter. Trisha turned to Nick and Wayne at the table with a smile, not bothered in the least by the distraction or by what happened. "Sorry about that. Anyone want more coffee?"

Wayne looked over at a stunned Nick. "See, I told you. Small, but mighty, that girl."

Yeah, okay. So there was more to her than he thought. It was kinda sexy the way she put Brad in his place, all the while doting over a scraped knuckle like a mother hen.

Scratch that. It was damn sexy.