He closed his eyes for a long beat, his chest rising and falling with his breath. When he opened them again, his gray eyes had lost their hardness. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I know. Because I’m Caleb’s niece and you were good friends, and?—”
“Because I care about you.” He let out an exasperated sigh.
I blinked. The air between us shifted, heavy with everything he hadn’t said until now.
A muscle along his jaw ticked and he shifted his gaze to meet mine. “I’m not used to it.”
My heart warmed. “Well, I can work with that.”
We had lunch at the Pine & Petal Café. Griff didn’t have a complete 180-degree turn after he admitted he cared about me, but he was a tad more gentle. I suppose it had to be hard for a guy who’d shut himself off from the rest of the world to let someone in, but I was determined to widen that crack.
Clara delivered our lunch herself: a huge salad for me and bison meatloaf for Griff. She didn’t appear to be in a hurry to leave our table, so I asked her if she’d heard anything about my uncle receiving any offers on his land.
“Caleb never would have considered selling.” She shook her head. “He was more a part of this mountain than most of the animals who live here. His roots grew as deep as some of the huge pines.”
“We think someone wanted his land.” I glanced at Griff, and he refused to meet my gaze.
“Everyone wanted his land,” Clara said with a laugh. Deever Jones has been trying to get him to sell for years. Of course, he never had the cash to back up his offer. Until last year.”
“Who’s Deever and what happened last year?” My gut said we were onto something, but Griff just hunkered over his plate and shoved another big bite of meatloaf into his mouth.
“He fancies himself as our local real estate developer, though the only thing he’s ever developed is a short-term rental cabin that never got enough business to stay open. Last year he hooked himself up with some movie guy from California. Says he’s going to start bringing in rich clients for trophy hunting.” Clara shook her head and chuckled. “No one around here wants that, but I’m not worried. The day that man delivers on any of his promises, we’ll throw a parade.”
“Thanks, Clara.” I swallowed, trying to force the apprehension building in my gut to calm the heck down. Griff glanced up with a cloud of guilt in his dark gray eyes. He knew something he wasn’t telling me, and I was going to find out the truth.
“I’ll leave you two to finish your lunch.” She brushed Griff’s shoulder with her hand. “It sure is nice to see you keeping such nice company, Griffin.”
The faintest shade of pink crept over his cheeks, though it was difficult to see underneath his thick beard. “Your meatloaf’s just as good as always.”
Clara blushed at the compliment. “You can be such a charmer when you want to be.”
She turned to go, and I practically launched myself across the table at Griff. “You knew about Deever, didn’t you?”
He hung his head, then lifted his chin and stared me right in the eyes. “Caleb told him he wasn’t interested. I didn’t think it mattered.”
“And now he’s dead.”
Guilt darkened his eyes. He definitely knew more than he’d been letting on. And I wasn’t going to give up until I found out what it was.
CHAPTER 7
GRIFF
The rain started halfwayup the mountain.
Not a soft drizzle, either—this was the kind that hit like gravel, blown sideways by the wind and splattering against the windshield in an angry assault. My wipers fought to keep up as I gripped the wheel tighter than necessary, my eyes on the barely visible road ahead.
Juniper hadn’t said much since lunch, and I didn’t blame her. If I were in her position, I wouldn’t want to talk to me either. I didn’t bother trying to fill the silence. Her words at lunch—“And now he’s dead”—echoed in my head like a bullet bouncing around with no place to land. I deserved her anger. I should’ve told her about Deever. Should’ve told her about the offer. Hell, I should’ve told her everything the moment we met.
But I’d spent too many years trying to survive by keeping people at arm’s length. I didn’t know how to hold someone close without destroying them.
She sat with her arms folded, watching dark shapes slide past the fogged-up window, her face an unreadable mask.
I glanced at her. “You cold?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
