Page 11 of Ranger Devotion

He stared down into his coffee, and Annie’s heart broke a little. She and Evan rarely talked about high school. Some things were too painful, and like her, Evan had often endured the popular kids’ bullying. It was a strange thing. To have fond memories of someone from childhood, only to be terrorized by them when you got older.

“It was bad enough seeing them all at Seth’s funeral. Crying and acting like they cared.” His mouth twisted in disgust. “Especially Kayla. Seth really cared about her, and she treated him terribly. She played him for a fool. Used him to make Preston jealous. Took every secret he ever trusted her with and handed it around. How could you treat someone like that?”

Annie had no answer. Kayla had been undeniably cruel. “What she did was wrong.”

“Yeah.” Evan shook his head as if pulling himself from some dark place, and pushed off from the counter. “I’d better get moving. Brooke’s gonna wonder where her coffee is.” He refilled his cup before pouring a second one. “Sorry if I overstepped, Annie.”

“You didn’t.” She appreciated that Evan was looking out for her. She was an only child, so he was the closest thing she had to a brother.

Annie finished folding her laundry. A quick glance at the clock on the microwave showed she was behind schedule. The kitchen staff would arrive to cook breakfast soon, and she still had some prep work to do. Balancing the stack of towels in her arms, unable to see around them, she hurried into the hallway from memory.

And slammed into a hard wall.

Annie yelped and stumbled backward, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process. A pair of strong hands grasped her biceps. She remained upright, but a couple of the towels tumbled from her stack, revealing none other than Tate Atwood. He smiled down at her, that dimple in his left cheek winking. “Morning, speed racer.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be awake yet.” Nerves jittered her insides. No one should look that good at seven in the morning. Tate was fresh from the shower, his short hair combed and slightly damp. He wore a soft flannel shirt and worn blue jeans. The scent of his aftershave—sandalwood, classic and masculine—tickled her nose. Annie wore a long-sleeved sweatshirt, but was still achingly aware of his warm hands on her arms.

A dangerous attraction that only seemed more potent after their conversation last night.

They’d chatted until nearly midnight. Not about anything special. Tate had shared more stories about his Christmas holidays with his sister, a few funny tales about his cases and his fellow Texas Rangers. She learned he was single. Annie had talked about running the summer camp and her plans for the upcoming year. It’d been light. Easy. Familiar. And yet, underlying all of it had been a hum of attraction that’d always seemed to exist between her and Tate. In high school, she’d thought it was one-sided until he asked her to prom. Afterward, she’d considered herself a fool to believe that Tate had any romantic notions about her.

And then, last night, he’d come clean.

I was too much of a coward to tell them the truth. That I really liked you.

And she didn’t know why, but for some reason, knowing he’d felt the same way…that it hadn’t been all in her head…it’d healed something inside her that she hadn’t realized was still hurting.

“What are you doing up so early?” Annie asked, stepping back and forcing Tate to break his hold. She was suddenly conscious of how she looked. Hair in a messy bun, no makeup, a frumpy sweatshirt and faded black pants. She’d wanted to finish a few chores before officially getting ready for the day. “You’re on vacation.”

“Tell my body that. After so many years of waking up at dawn, it’s ingrained now. Here, let me help you.” Tate scooped up the fallen towels. “Where are you headed?”

“Upstairs, but I can do it. Just add them to my pile.” She nodded toward the kitchen. “There’s coffee if you’re interested.”

“Very. Sure you don’t want help?”

“I’ve got it. Grab some coffee and make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.” She hurried across the lobby and up the staircase. Annie told herself it didn’t matter what she looked like. The side of her face was still bruised from colliding with the fender of Kayla’s SUV last night. A cute hairstyle and lip gloss wouldn’t help. Still, a vain part of her wished she had it all together. That Tate would see her and realize what he’d missed out on.

So far he’d only seen her at her worst. Once after being attacked, and now, in her ratty sweats.

She reached the hall closet and stacked the towels inside by size. She closed the closet, and a light down the hall caught her eye. Kayla’s bedroom door was cracked open. Strange. Annie didn’t take Kayla for an early riser, and she hadn’t passed her on the stairs. Had she forgotten to close her bedroom door all the way?

Tiptoeing past the other guest rooms, Annie reached Kayla’s door. She caught the handle, intending to shut it, but saw the bed was empty. Uneasiness settled in her stomach. The door swung open with a creak. “Kayla?”

The lamp on the nightstand was still on. Clothes exploded from a suitcase and littered the carpet. Enough perfume to stock a store lined the dresser. Her shattered cell phone and laptop bag had been tossed into an armchair. The bed hadn’t been slept in.

Annie crossed to the open bathroom door. Cosmetics scattered across the counter, dirty towels dropped on the floor. She touched the edge of the sink.

Dry. So was the shower.

Where was Kayla? Annie thought back to last night. She’d last seen Kayla in the activity center around eleven. Had she bunked up with her former bestie Heather? Annie backtracked and knocked on the adjoining door. Nothing. She eased it open far enough to see Heather alone and asleep, one arm flung over her eyes.

No sign of Kayla.

Annie eased the door shut, her mind racing. Kayla had been flirting heavily with Preston, but he was staying in Cabin 3 with several of the guys from the football team. If the two of them had wanted time alone, they wouldn’t have gone there.

Something was wrong.

The cut on Annie’s arm blazed with a phantom pain. She raced down the staircase.