Page 3 of Solid as Steele
She stepped halfway to him. “No offense. I won’t hand this to you, but I’ll set it down on the floorboards and go back for some coffee.”
“I understand. You have to be careful,” he said with as much conviction as possible.
“You want coffee?” She placed the plate and bottle near her feet.
“Please. Black as can be.” Okay, great he knew how he took his coffee. Something else to go on. Not really of value but something.
She backed into the cabin.
He didn’t want to scare her, so he waited for the door to close then grabbed the plate and propped his back against the rough cedar siding. He cracked the water bottle and nearly drained the cool liquid before she returned with two large stoneware mugs of coffee. Without a word, she set one on the floor then backed up to a rocking chair and sat.
She wasn’t overly tall. Five-eight, he guessed, but her height was in her legs, which she elegantly crossed. She sipped on the mug, staring ahead.
“I don’t want to scare you,” he said. “But I can’t resist the smell of the coffee, and I’m going to grab the mug now.”
She peered at him. “I’ve been scared since I spotted you.”
“I get that, and I’m sorry for it.” He smiled at her as he leaned over to grab the rich dark coffee with steam rising into the frosty morning. “Thank you for being so generous and giving me something to eat and drink.”
“I considered sending you packing.” She sounded very earnest and straightforward and he liked that too. “But my faith wouldn’t let me do it.”
He took a long sip of the strong coffee and stifled a groan over the deep, nutty flavor. She liked her coffee the way he did. Strong and potent. Though it looked like she dosed hers liberally with cream. “I might not know much about myself, but I prayed a minute ago. Guess that means I believe in God too.”
“Could be.” She rested the mug on her knee. “But some people who aren’t practicing Christians call out to God in times of extreme duress.”
“I hope you’re wrong, and I’m a man who lives his life by faith.” Another sip of coffee and he traded the mug for the bagel.
“Me too.” She met his gaze and locked on. “So what now? Should I call the county sheriff’s office? See if anyone reported you missing?”
“No!” His outburst startled her, and she jostled her coffee, the caramel-colored liquid sloshing over the top.
“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t know why I reacted like that.”
“Maybe because you were breaking the law when you got hurt, and you don’t want to get law enforcement involved.”
He took a breath to cool down. “That’s possible. Doesn’t feel right though.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What other explanation could there be for such a response?”
“I don’t know.” Thoughts raced through his head, and he chomped off a bite of what turned out to be a cinnamon and raisin bagel. He chewed the sweet dough and swallowed. “Maybe I don’t trust law enforcement.”
“Then you don’t trust me.”
“You’re an officer?”
“Not now, but I was a detective in the Oregon State Police investigations division. Worked for OSP for over five years.”
Explained her reason for carrying. “And now?”
“Now I work at my family’s business. Steele Guardians. We provide security guards for companies and events. We’re based in the Portland metro area but have clients all over the Northwest.”
“Sounds impressive.” He took another big bite of the chewy bagel with crisp edges.
“My dad and uncle started the business after they retired from law enforcement. Now they’re wanting to retire, and my sisters and cousins have left law enforcement to take over.”
“A family of cops.” He polished off the first half of the bagel.
She nodded. “My dad and uncle have a rule. If we want to run the company, we had to serve in law enforcement for five years first. They said it would teach us to think like a criminal.”
