On Deadly Ground Read Online Free Page B

nursing home anyway.”
    “Oh. Well, thank you.” She consulted her wrist-watch, and the sun glanced off the gold wedding band on her finger. “I’d better get back inside now, though. It’s almost lunchtime, and some of my friends need help with their food.”
    With the workload waiting for her at the campground, she still took time to help others. He liked that about her. But today he wouldn’t tell her she was fabulous—or whatever idiotic word he’d used last night that made them both uncomfortable. “I have to go, too. But think about what I said.”
    “I’ll do that. Thanks again.”
    Brushing off her thanks, he headed for his vehicle. “No problem. Friends are supposed to look out for each other.”
    Friends, he thought, getting his head straight as he started the green game-commission truck and pulled back onto the road. That’s what they were, and what he was comfortable with. He could do a lot worse.
    At two o’clock, Rachel drove down into her wooded campground to see Nate Carter’s yellow company truck parked beside her white-sided camp store. Sunlight flashed off two long silver canisters in the truck’s bed,both secured by steel framing. She swung in beside him as Nate got out of his vehicle.
    Nate was a compact man about her height with light brown hair, dated steel-rimmed aviator glasses and a nice smile. A denim jacket stitched with his company name—Carter Propane Sales—topped his jeans and chambray shirt, but on Sundays, he was a suit-and-tie man all the way.
    “Afternoon,” he called, walking around the truck to meet her.
    “Afternoon,” she called back. “Have you been here long?”
    “Just a few minutes. I was making deliveries in the area and stopped to see if you needed to have your tanks filled.” He wiggled an empty foam cup before dropping it in the nearby trash receptacle. “I was also hoping for a cup of coffee and some scintillating conversation.”
    Laughing and choosing a key from her ring, Rachel ascended the wide wooden stoop, opened the white screen door and inserted her key in the lock. “If you’re looking for ‘scintillating,’ you’ve come to the wrong place, but coffee’s doable.” She stepped inside, and he followed. “As for my tanks, I haven’t checked the gauges yet, but I’m probably low.”
    “You are,” he admitted sheepishly. “I had some time to kill before you got here.” He stepped around three waist-high stacks of cartons on the floor. “You’re under twenty percent at your house. Camp store’s just a little better than that.”
    Rachel dropped her keys on the blue counter separating her galley from the store, then slipped behind the bar to start her small coffeemaker. The large dispenserwould be pressed into service when her guests began piling in.
    “Well, then, let’s fill them.” She put a filter pack of coffee in the basket, added a dash of salt and turned on the unit. “How’s tomorrow for you?”
    “Tomorrow’s good. Morning or afternoon?”
    Rachel carried two white mugs to the counter where Nate had commandeered a stool. “Come anytime. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be here all day.”
    “Great. I’ll stop by in the morning. Jillian has a hair appointment around three, so if my afternoon’s free, I can tag along. Maybe take her out afterward for an early dinner.”
    “Can’t imagine her saying no to that,” Rachel returned, smiling.
    “Yeah, she’ll like that.” He paused for a moment as the rich aroma of coffee brewing spiced the air, and steaming, spitting coffee dripped into the carafe. A sly twinkle rose in his eyes when Rachel took the stool beside him. “So,” he said far too innocently, “anything new going on in your neck of the woods?”
    She had to laugh. So that’s why he’d waited for her. He’d heard. Some days she swore the number of police scanners in Charity outnumbered the population. “Let me guess, you have a scanner.”
    “No, I ran into Emma Lucille at the Quick Mart early this