The Higher You Fly Page 3

  "Anytime. Take care of yourself," said Kurt.

  Caiden left the clubhouse, got into his truck, and drove away into the night. The wind came through the open window cooling him down. Working off the overload of energy failed to stop him from thinking about Jolene.

  He wanted her to hurt, too. He wanted to witness her downfall and stand back and do nothing. He wanted her to feel the pain of not having one fucking person in her life.

  Racing away from his thoughts, he automatically turned off the county road onto Black Bear Road. He'd traveled the same path many times starting at the age of sixteen when he'd discovered the hunting cabin.

  The log house came into view of his headlights. He gripped the steering wheel and pushed his foot down on the accelerator. The speedometer hit forty, forty-five, fifty miles per hour. At the last moment, he turned the wheels and slid to a stop, missing the front steps to the porch by a foot.

  Before his anger consumed him, he swung open the car door and stalked up to the porch of Jolene's cabin. The whole place was lit up with lights inside. He rapped his knuckles on the window in the wooden door. She needed curtains. He could see all over the inside of the place.

  The forest green couch in front of the fireplace. The wooden table off the kitchen. His gaze zeroed in on a pair of shoes ten feet from the door, scattered as if she'd kicked them off in a hurry.

  He knocked again louder and peered closer inside. Her purse was on the table, tipped, with the contents spilled out. The Jolene he knew would never leave her things thrown about. She was a neat freak. He turned the door handle before he could think about what he was doing and found it unlocked. She lived out in the wilderness without a neighbor in sight. It was dark. Why the hell wasn't her door locked?

  He stepped inside. The silence only accelerated his heartbeat. He walked through the great room to the master bedroom and looked inside. There were no bed, dresser, or clothes in the room. Only tables against two walls and shelves holding plastic organizers.

  She must make her jewelry in the room. That's what her business card had on it. A jeweler.

  He walked to the next room and found Jolene curled on the bed fully clothed, minus her shoes. Not saying a word, he stepped around the bed to look at her face. She slept, unaware of him inside the cabin.

  For the first time in twenty years, he stared unabashedly at the woman who'd ripped out his heart. God, she was beautiful.

  Thick hair in the warmest of browns it almost looked auburn in the sunshine. Slender hips he used to steer with his hands and full breasts he could stare at all day. She had a way of carrying herself that always turned him on. Her upbringing with all the rules about how to dress, how to act, how to never show her emotions gave her a stuck-up disposition until he'd coax her out of paying attention to those around her and she let loose, being who she wanted to be.

  He stepped closer and stopped. Her mascara had dried underneath her eyes in abused tracks. He uncurled his fists and picked up the blanket at the foot of her bed. Covering her up, he forced himself to leave her room.

  By the dining room table, he removed the receipt and her business card she'd left behind at the gas station and set the two items on the surface. Then, he walked out of the cabin, locking the door behind him. She deserved every tear she shed.

  CHAPTER 3

  Jealousy is the tie that binds, and binds, and binds. — Helen Rowland

  Of all the places for the public parking spot to be in Federal, it had to be across from the gas station. Jolene paced in front of her car. With only a river and a road between her and where Caiden worked, her paranoia had her twitching worse than a drug addict on a three-day cleanse.

  It wasn't her imagination playing overtime. He'd been in her house. A place where she sought solitude, privacy, and safety. And, Caiden had walked in and left her receipt on the table, and she suspected he'd covered her with a blanket, too. Unless she'd gotten cold during the night and couldn't remember covering herself.

  She peered up at Interstate 90 running above the town, willing Casey to arrive. The moment her distributor came, she'd lead him out to the cabin. The only reason she was meeting him here was because Casey would never find her place. Putting her address in the GPS of her car led her in the opposite direction, and she feared he'd get lost in the forest if left on his own.

  Holding her phone in front of her, she pretended to look at the screen to study the gas station. Was Caiden inside?

  She'd driven around the block and checked out the four cars that were parked behind the building before parking in the lot. Not knowing what kind of car, truck, motorcycle Caiden owned, her spying got her nowhere. She shivered. She could practically feel him looking at her.

  She was going crazy.

  That's the only way she could explain why she'd imagined him spying on her when she was in the shower, at the store, walking through the woods. Everywhere she went, she couldn't shake the feeling that there were eyes on her.

  Gray, icy eyes, that no matter how hard she tried to forget, she couldn't.

  No, she wasn't paranoid. Caiden had trespassed in her home.

  She'd bought a chain lock for her door right after she found her receipt she never took from Caiden on the table with her business card. She even managed to use the screwdriver herself to install the added protection.

  A car horn repeatedly blasted behind her. She whirled around, spotted Casey's incoming car, and waved. Surprised by the relief of having someone with her, she hurried over to his car before he'd come to a complete stop.

  Casey stepped out of the vehicle. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. Having been friends with him for twelve years, she laughed away her stress when he picked her up and twirled her in a circle.

  "Look at you." He set her down on her feet. "Idaho agrees with you."

  "Just wait until you see my new home." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "It's paradise, and the first day I arrived there were five elk standing in the yard. I sat in my car for fifteen minutes watching them before they finally noticed me and fled. I've missed so much, the air, the wildlife, the trees. I never realized how much until I moved back here."

  "When did you move away?" he asked.

  "A long time ago." She smiled through her chest constricting. "But, now, I'm going to give you a quick tour of the most beautiful part of Idaho. There might be moose if you're lucky."

  Casey raised his sculpted brows over the rim of his dark-framed glasses. "Stop. I can't handle this side of you."

  She patted his chest. "Get in your car. I'll lead the way there, and you can see for yourself how relaxed and wonderful it is here."

  "Do you have wine?" he asked, backing away to his car.

  "Of, course." She laughed reaching for the door handle. "For you, I'll open the good stuff."

  She smiled as she drove under the overpass and turned in front of the gas station. Next time Casey came to pick up her pieces of jewelry, she'd work on him to stay a couple of days with her. She wanted solitude, but there was nothing like having a friend around to share the beauty of her new life.

  Twenty minutes later, she pulled onto Black Bear Road. She slowed her speed and looked in the rearview mirror at the dust cloud she'd created. Laughter burst out of her. Casey was probably calling her all kinds of names. She should've stopped on the main road and instructed him to lead the way to spare him the drawback of living on a gravel road.

  She parked and hopped out of the car. "Come on. Come on."

  Casey walked toward her, coughing and waving his hand in the air. She looped her arm around his elbow, laughing at his comical reaction at living in the forest.

  "Good thing I'm not asthmatic." Casey looked down at his dress shoes. "This sure is a change from Colorado."

  "It's better. Look over there." She pointed. "Apple trees. The deer and elk come in and eat them off the ground."

  Casey stopped. "Apple pie?"

  "You're asking me?" Jolene hugged his arm. "I can manage to cut an apple into
wedges."

  "You disappoint me," muttered Casey.

  "You'll get over it. Besides, it's too late in the season. The apples have mostly dropped to the ground. The weather is already cooling off. In a month, I could be seeing my first snowflake." She pulled him up on the porch. "This winter, I'm going to use some of my extra time to buy outside furniture. I'll get a rocker and a table. Maybe some of those hanging café lights. I think they even sell those heaters that keep outdoor spaces warm."

  She stopped at the door and turned toward Casey. "Okay. Prepare yourself, because once you walk inside, my house is going to blow your mind."

  "Lead on." Casey grinned.

  She unlocked the door and strolled inside. "Those are real logs."

  "Trees."

  "Yes." She ran her hand along the wall. "I'm not sure what kind of trees, but old ones. Did I tell you the cabin was built in nineteen-ten?"

  Casey peered up at the open beamed ceiling. "It's in remarkable shape. Reminds me of those western homes that are in architectural magazines."

  "Come and look at the workroom." She walked to what was meant to be the master bedroom. "Everything transported well, and the orders came on time."

  "It's twice as big as what you were working in before." Casey picked up a case and held the plastic up to the window. "For the Quintessential Line?"

  "Yes." She stepped over and peered at the garnets. "I cut one to test. They're the best ones I've ever got my hands on. They're almost dripping blood, they're so dark."

  Casey glanced at her. "You do know that Lux will try to talk you out of one of these beauties, right?"

  "She already has." Jolene inhaled deeply, loving her friend's openness to beg. "I promised her a special piece just for her after the line sells."

  "Will you have time with everything else going on and the deadline for the Quintessential Line?"

  She nodded. "More than enough."

  Living in Federal, living in solitude, she'd have no problems working. Her muse had exploded the moment she stepped inside the cabin.

  Casey set the container down. "Give me the rest of the tour, and then I need to get out of here."

  "So soon?"

  "I have one more pick-up...in Utah, and I'm driving the whole way." He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. "I'm running short on time, but next pick-up, I'll take you out for dinner."

  "Are you paying?" She tilted her head and smiled.

  "Naturally. Anywhere you want. Lobster. Steak. It's on me." He followed her through the rest of the house.

  Sharing her ideas for the spare bedroom, she walked into the great room and stood by the table. "I have everything packaged. I saved the best onyx pieces from the show in Portland and added them. You're still using the same display?"

  "Yes. Once we move away from the west coast part of the tour, I'll have the buyer who purchases the onyx pieces contact you." Casey picked up the box. "While you're working, try to get an idea what you want for the Quintessential Line, so I bring the right contract with me. You've talked about consignment and selling, so you'll have to make up your mind."

  "I will." She walked with him to the door, hurrying forward to let him out. "Oh, shoot. I forgot the insurance papers. I didn't want to put them in the box in case you needed to present them early, you wouldn't have to open the carton. I'll run and get it."

  "I'll take these to the car." Casey walked off the porch.

  In the workroom, she scanned the tables and then remembered she'd set the papers in the top drawer. Finding a Manila envelope, she slid the papers inside and bent the two metal prongs.

  She hurried outside, jogged down the porch steps, and looked up to find a black truck parked beside Casey's vehicle. She slowed her step. Casey caught sight of her and met her halfway. Handing over the envelope, she glanced at the visitor.

  "A friend of yours?" asked Casey.

  The glare of the sun on the windshield blinded her from viewing who was driving. After being gone twenty years, and not keeping in contact with anyone, she had no friends in Federal. When she'd left, she cut ties with everyone.

  "I'm not sure." She raised her hand to her brow and squinted.

  "Hey," he said lowering his voice. "Do you want me to stay why you check it out?"

  She reached out and squeezed his arm. "You don't mind?"

  "As long as you make it quick or pay my speeding ticket when I try to make up the wasted time on the highway." He stepped back and pretended to inspect the envelope. "Go, you know I don't mind."

  She swallowed, smoothed the front of her shirt, and walked to the visitor's truck. She shielded her eyes with her hand, and the driver's side door swung open, and a man stepped out, blocking the sun giving her a clear view.

  She stumbled and caught herself. Her thoughts swirled.

  "Caiden?" she said.

  "Jolene." Caiden stepped forward.

  She pinched the base of her neck. "What are you doing here?"

  Caiden gazed at Casey. "Who's the guy?"

  "That's none of your business." She lowered her arm, catching herself before she hugged herself.

  "Looks like he wants to leave." Caiden stepped in front of her. "Go tell him bye."

  "Are you kidding me?" she whispered, not wanting a scene in front of Casey. "You're the one who needs to leave."

  "I'm not leaving."

  She dropped her gaze to his clenched fists. Without thinking, she walked over to Casey. She wanted to beg Casey to stay. In her wildest dreams, she never imagined Caiden being in Federal after all these years.

  "Everything okay?" Casey glanced at his phone.

  "Yeah, sure." She crossed her arm and held her elbow. "He's an old friend."

  "Ah, okay, that's nice." Casey kissed her cheek. "I'll take off then and leave you to your company."

  "Okay."

  "I'll call you when your pieces have been delivered," said Casey.

  "That's perfect." She hugged him. "Give Lux my love and tell her to call me when you get home."

  "You'll probably hear from her by tonight. She likes to check up on me." Casey stepped over to his car, nodded at Caiden, and slipped inside.

  She watched Casey leave, waving until he was out of sight. Scared to confront Caiden and scared not to, she tried to think of what she could say. How are you? What have you been up to for the last twenty years? What brought you out here? Every question missed how she felt about seeing him again.

  He'd walked into her house when she was sleeping. That was not okay.

  "Who was he?" asked Caiden behind her.

  She refused to turn around. "My boyfriend," she lied, regretting it the moment the words passed her lips.

  Casey was married to Lux, another artist. Lux had become her roommate when she was a starving artist. She'd been there when Lux and Casey met, when Lux miscarried her first pregnancy, and later celebrated the birth of her second pregnancy. Caiden didn't need to know her history or her friends.

  Caiden scoffed. "He kisses your cheek when he leaves?"

  "What does that mean?" She turned around.

  Caiden curled his lip. She couldn't look away. There was a time when he'd been the man of her dreams. They'd talked about getting married when she graduated, how many kids they'd have, where they'd live.

  She broke away from his eyes and glanced at the house. The first time they'd had sex had been on a blanket inside the cabin. Every chance they got, they'd sneak away from her parents and him living above a bar, and hide inside the abandoned cabin to dream their life away. She rubbed her arms, self-conscious in case Caiden remembered the details of their relationship so long ago. Her decision to buy the house only now felt foolish faced with the man who'd fed her dreams even when he was out of her life.

  "If you'll excuse me." She walked away before he could reply.

  He grabbed her arm and tugged. She landed against his chest, her hands pressed between them.

  "What are you doing?" She pushed against him.

  He held her tighter. "You're not fucking
that asshole in front of me."

  "Wh—?" She shook her head, getting the vision of Casey naked out of her head. "Caiden, let me go."

  He released her. She stumbled back at the force of his retreat and rubbed her arms. "What are you doing, coming here, being rude, and telling me who I can and can't have a relationship with?"

  "Rude?" He tilted back his head and laughed, making her cringe because there was nothing about the sound that was amused. "You have no idea what you're doing. Buying the cabin. Coming back to Federal. You couldn't even lock your damn door the other night, or were you expecting your boyfriend?"

  Caiden looked over her head at the house. The skin over his high cheekbones twitched and his gaze narrowed. She held her ground. She failed to recognize her Caiden in the forty-two-year-old man at the moment. There was a time when Caiden's eyes spoke to her without saying words. All he had to do was look at her, and she could feel the love he had for her.

  He dropped his gaze back to her. "Were you waiting for him? Was that it?"

  She gawked. Her eyes stung, and she closed her mouth. "You need to leave and never come back."

  "You lost the right to tell me what to do twenty years ago," he said with a growl.

  Her legs shook. The vehemence in his voice rattled her. The Caiden she'd loved never had so much anger in him. Moody, yes, but he never directed his temperaments on her.

  She slipped away and left him standing alone in her yard, his gaze burning her back. Inside the cabin, she hooked the chain in the lock, and walked straight to her bedroom and sat on the bed, out of view of all the windows. He had so much hate inside of him, and he made her feel as if she was the reason for his anger.

  She hadn't left him.

  He had gone to prison. She had hoped he'd survive untouched by his time spent behind bars. He had been strong and tough. Obviously, being around criminals had changed him.

  CHAPTER 4

  For every good reason there is to lie, there is a better reason to tell the truth. — Bo Bennett

  A roar of a motorcycle grew louder. Caiden walked down the steps outside the post office after mailing the customer bills from the gas station and spotted Cam Farrell, a Moroad Motorcycle Club member, riding down the street. He lifted his hand and waited for Cam to pull over.