Solid as Steele by Susan Sleeman

3

Mackenzie swirled a knife through the cream cheese, butter, and powdered sugar mixture she’d dropped by spoonfuls into the chocolate fudge cake batter. Satisfied it was incorporated, she sprinkled a layer of chocolate chips on the top then inserted the sweet-smelling cake into the oven and set a timer.

Her phone chimed from the counter, and she looked at the text from Ryan. We’re a go. See you at six.

Thank you!Cake’s in the oven, she replied.

The timer set, she had to go to the guest house to tell Owen when to arrive for dinner. He would’ve had plenty of time to shower and change by now. They’d made a final stop at a clothing store, and she’d bought him clean clothes so he could bag the ones he was wearing in case they needed them for evidence collection. He’d argued the whole time about her paying, but she promised to keep receipts for him to repay her if he could.

His natural behavior seemed to be that of an honest man who didn’t want to take advantage of her, but she couldn’t be sure she wasn’t letting her physical attraction to him get in the way of her judgment. She’d never had such an intense reaction to a guy before, and it was hard to separate that from anything else she felt about him.

Forget that. Try to act like the detective you once were and keep an open mind. And your eyes open.

She stepped outside into the brisk wind and tugged her fleece closed as she crossed the dusty soil littered with tufts of dried grass to the one-bedroom log cabin. The rental listing said this was the original building on the property and was constructed in 1920. The current owner had restored it and built the main cabin and other outbuildings.

She knocked on the rustic door and stood back. She’d been renting this property every year since leaving college. All but last year when she’d started working at the company and couldn’t take the time off.

It was her place to be alone with her thoughts and with God. To recharge. When she’d been a state trooper, she hadn’t been able to recharge on a daily basis. By the end of her duty, she’d lost her joy in so many things and was heading toward burn out. But then, for some reason, when she’d left the force, she’d started a podcast on faith in her daily life, and it had restored her faith and joy. She was just now starting to fully live and embrace life again.

The door opened, and Owen appeared as he pulled together the front of a button-down shirt. He got it closed, but not before she spotted massive bruises on a firm torso. He fastened a button.

“Stop,” she said. “Let me see those bruises.”

“It’s nothing. Really. Doc says no internal injuries. Only surface bruises.”

She took hold of the fabric and separated it, working hard not to gasp. “And your back?”

She asked as she turned him and tugged the shirt down over his broad shoulders to see the answer. “These bruises are fresh. Someone beat you up before hitting you over the head.”

“Looks like it.” He shrugged the shirt over his broad shoulders.

“You didn’t just fall, then,” she muttered as she considered the situation. Maybe he hadn’t been alone out there. He’d been brutally beaten. But that could’ve happened before he arrived in the desert too.

The big question right now was how in the world was he moving and not in terrible pain?

“You need some pain relievers,” she said.

“They gave me Tylenol at the hospital.” A tight smile crossed his face as he continued to button his shirt. “Have you heard from Ryan?”

“He’s officially coming at six. Which is when I would like to have dinner. Does that work for you?”

“Sure. I can get a good nap in before if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course. There’s an alarm clock by the bed.” She started to leave but turned back. “Is there anything you need before then?”

“You’ve been more than generous.” He tugged on the shirttails. “I’ll repay every cent on your tally.”

“We’ll figure it all out.”

He frowned. “Your generosity floors me.”

“Faith in action,” she said and departed.

His gaze was on her as she made the trip back to her cabin. She was sure of it, and she had to force one foot in front of the other to keep moving. She really wanted to stay at the guest house with him to make sure he didn’t require any help and got the rest he needed. But he’d made no secret of his independent nature and wanting to be alone. She was fine with that. She really was. She’d come to the desert to be alone too.

Then why did she keep wanting to look back. Worse yet, turn around to stay with this man? He could be the worst kind of criminal who was very skilled in masquerading as a decent guy.

Her very life could be in danger and she’d best not forget that.

The smell of roasting beef wafted out of an open window, accompanied with laughter, and drew Owen toward the cabin. A newer model Ford Bronco in a cactus gray color sat in the drive. Ryan, Owen assumed.

The guy had arrived in style as newer Broncos could be pricey. Funny how Owen could recognize the make and model of a vehicle but not his own name. Some things seemed natural. Others appeared like a black wall in front of his face. The doctor had told him that was normal and not to let it freak him out, but it still did.

He knocked on the door, and the laughter died. Boots pounded on the floor from the other side of the door, and it was soon snatched open.

An intense guy with dishwater blond hair and a weightlifter’s build stood there, hiking boots planted wide. He had on green tactical pants with a T-shirt and wore a gun at his hip. “Guess you’re Owen. I’m Ryan Maddox.”

“Hey, thanks for coming, man,” Owen said. “I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well, Mac’s a longtime friend. My brothers and I will help whenever she needs us.”

Okay. Staking his territory?Certainly making sure that Owen knew that leading them into the wilderness was a favor for Mackenzie—not Owen.

Barefooted, Mackenzie crossed the room to join them. She was wearing a flowing skirt and clinging knit black top that contrasted with her light hair color.

Ryan turned to smile at her, and she tucked her arm in his to pull him away from the door. “Back off, Ryan, and let the guy in.”

Ryan frowned, but let her lead him back to the kitchen island where she pushed him onto a stool. He kept his gaze pinned to Owen.

Was every minute with this guy going to be a battle?

Owen closed the door and crossed the room toward them.

Mackenzie lifted a glass pitcher with honey-colored liquid and clinking ice cubes. “Can I get you some iced tea?”

“That would be nice.” He smiled. “Dinner smells great.”

“I made a beef roast with carrots and potatoes. I know Ryan likes it, and it’s an old favorite with my dad and grandad.”

Ryan’s stomach growled.

Mackenzie looked at him and rolled her eyes.

“What? I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a long time.” He laughed. “I don’t get over to my mom and dad’s place often enough for my stomach’s liking.”

“You need to find a woman who can cook then.” Mackenzie poured the tea and set the glass on the island in front of Owen.

Ryan frowned.

She peered at the guy. “Right. Still pining over the one who got away.”

“Would that be you?” Owen asked and instantly hated that he needed to know the answer.

Her gaze flashed to him. “Me? Hah. No. Mia. Ryan’s high school sweetheart.”

“Enough.” Ryan turned his attention to a backpack sitting on the stool next to him. He took out a laminated map and slid items out of the way to lay it on the island. “A map of this property. Can you show me the direction you arrived from?”

Owen moved closer and looked at the terrain and lay of the buildings on the land. He ran his finger from the front porch that faced west in a straight line through barren land. “I started out at dusk and walked most of the night, but my injuries made me rest often. Not sure about the distance. Once I spotted the cabin’s lights, I aimed toward it.”

Ryan pressed his lips into a thin line. “And that’s it? That’s all you can give me to go on?”

“Yeah, except for there being a ten-foot butte and rock with blood on it where I started.” Owen held Ryan’s challenging gaze.

“No idea how you got there?” Ryan didn’t back down.

“None.”

“That’s freaky.”

“Tell me about it.”

Ryan folded the map. “I’d hoped we could drive at least part of the way, but with not knowing your direction, I’ll need to be on foot to track your movements. And hope what I locate are your movements and not someone else’s.”

“I haven’t seen anyone else on the property.” Mackenzie set the pitcher on the island. “But someone could be out on the far reaches of the land, and I wouldn’t know it. Owen showing up proved that.”

Ryan looked at her. “You get the police involved yet?”

“No,” she said.

“My fault.” Owen picked up his tea. “I’m hoping when I go back out, something will jog my memory, and we won’t need the police.”

“Not notifying the police at all is not an option,” Mackenzie said. “Someone hurt you. The massive bruises you sustained prove that, and we need to make them pay.”

“Yeah,” he said, but depending on the situation, Owen might not involve law enforcement.

A timer sounded from the stove.

Mackenzie turned to silence it. “Dinner’s ready. Head to the table, and I’ll serve.”

Owen stood. “Can I do anything to help?”

She slid a Tylenol and Ibuprofen bottle toward him. “Take some of these and take the bottles to your cabin for later tonight.”

“Thanks.” He picked up the bottles. “But I was more thinking about carrying food or something like that.”

“Don’t bother asking.” Ryan grabbed his iced tea glass. “Her gran taught her to serve her guests while they recline in comfort, and she continues to be old school.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but yeah. When you come to dinner at my place, I do the work. You reap the rewards.” She made shooing motions with her hands. “Now off you go.”

Owen followed Ryan, taking his tea to the table set with basic white plates and bright blue plaid napkins. Ryan sat on the far side, and Owen took a seat across the table.

“I’d like to head out at dawn, if that works for you.” Ryan pulled his chair closer to the table, and the legs scraped on the wide wood floor planks.

“Sure thing.”

Mackenzie brought in a platter with a browned roast and vegetables laced with slices of onions. Owen’s mouth watered at the sight, and he couldn’t wait to dig in. She spun and went back to the kitchen.

“Way I figure it.” Ryan eyed the platter. “A night in the wild is likely, and you should bring a change of clothes.”

Thankfully, Mackenzie had bought him two sets of clothing and toiletries. “No backpack to transport things, but I have a bag from the store for my things.”

“I’m counting on you to carry a pack with provisions. We should be able to fit your things in there. If you’re up to carrying the pack, that is.”

Owen didn’t like seeming weaker than this macho outdoorsman, and he especially didn’t want to seem like a wimp in front of Mackenzie. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“His back won’t let him do that.” Mackenzie brought in a plate of thickly sliced wheat bread. “He has severe bruises. I’ll carry the pack.”

Ryan nodded. “You should be fine hauling it. After all, you always hauled a pack around at camp filled with everything but the kitchen sink.”

They laughed together, and Owen felt like a third wheel.

Mackenzie passed the meat and veggie platter to Ryan and the bread to Owen. Ryan filled his plate with hefty slices of beef and browned carrots, potatoes, and onions, and Owen didn’t hold back either. If he planned to hike tomorrow, he needed to gain some strength.

He would carry that pack. No matter the pain. No matter how much Mackenzie argued with him.

She sat and held out her hands. “Let’s pray.”

If Ryan wasn’t a Christian, he didn’t balk at the request but readily took her hand. Owen took the other one. It was warm and comforting as was her prayer for their meal. But she also added a plea for God to be with Owen and help him recover his memory. Despite his lapse in knowing much about himself, the prayer brought him a sense of peace. For a moment anyway.

The perfectly roasted meal melted in Owen’s mouth and filled his gut. He slathered the bread with butter, the soft but hearty wheat tasted simply amazing. He didn’t want to waste time talking between bites, but Ryan discussed his tracking methods and how far he hoped to travel on the first morning.

“We’ll stop for lunch.” He put down his fork on the nearly empty plate to grab his glass. “I’ll evaluate then if we need to spend the night under the stars. I have everything we need except personal items.” He looked at Mackenzie. “I suggest you don’t plan to bring makeup and all those girlie things you carried at camp as the pack is full.”

She wrinkled her nose. “What makeup? This is all natural beauty.”

He chuckled then turned serious as he looked at Owen. “I don’t suppose you remember if you know how to fire a gun.”

Owen chewed his bread and tried to remember. “I don’t know.”

Ryan set down the tea and stabbed his remaining beef, but held it midair. “We could do a little target practice at the crack of dawn. If I think you’re good to go after that, I’ve got a handgun you can use.”

Owen drained his tea and pondered his stance on guns. He had no idea what he thought about them. He knew he didn’t have a problem with Ryan and Mackenzie carrying. Maybe that meant he was fine with guns. The morning would tell.

Ryan faced Mackenzie. “Time for that cake?”

She set her fork down. “I don’t know what it is about that recipe you like so much.”

“Coconut. Cream cheese. Cake. Sweetness overload. What’s not to like?” Ryan grinned.

She pushed back her chair. “I’ll take your plates and get it.”

Owen stood to help.

She raised a hand. “Sit. You’re still my guest.”

He dropped back down but moved his place setting to the end of the table and stacked it on top of hers. Ryan got out his phone and focused on the screen, but Owen watched Mackenzie’s fluid movements as she moved into the kitchen. She had delicate feet, and she glided as if she’d been a dancer at some point. He had a hard time placing her in a state trooper uniform and stopping a car on the roadside. But she’d done the job for five years and been promoted to detective, so she had to be good at it.

What about tomorrow? What might they find at the end of his trail? Something illegal and she would then turn around and arrest him? She couldn’t make a legal arrest, but she could arrange to have law enforcement waiting for him when he returned. In that case, would he go along peacefully or would he try to evade the arrest?

It seemed wrong to leave her hanging when she’d been kind to him—beyond kind—but he had to think of himself first. Right?

Not if you went by the Mackenzie Steele philosophy of life. If you did that, then you not only didn’t think of yourself first, but at times, you didn’t think of yourself at all. That drew him to her even more than her good looks and likable personality.