Page 3 of Anders
Anders was ready to be that guardian.Everything else—including whatever plans fate might have for his personal life—would simply have to wait its turn.
After all, he had work to do.
CHAPTER 1
THEWELCOME TOSUNBURSTsign looked like it had seen better days, its faded paint barely visible in Etta Barone’s headlights as she pulled into town well after sunset.
Massive mesas loomed against the starlit sky, their shadows broken by the silhouettes of scrubby pine trees.A sharp, botanical scent drifted through her open window, carried on the dusty desert breeze.
The town itself almost seemed to be holding its breath as she drove down what she assumed was the main street, though the distinct lack of traffic or pedestrians made it hard to tell.
Then again, she reminded herself, it was nighttime—and a lot of small towns rolled up the sidewalks after dark.
Besides, I chose this assignment, she reminded herself.
Though, to be fair, she hadn’t been given much choice.
Mr.Fulton says it’s the Sunburst job or nothing,Johnny, her former editor, had told her, his tone apologetic but definite.But it’s a good move—the office has been closed for something like two years, so you’ll have total control, hiring and editorial and everything.
Johnny had been right, of course.In the end, she’d taken the position despite her misgivings about moving halfway across the country to a dying town to take over an already dead newspaper.
But those misgivings were rearing their heads again now, her instincts screaming at her that there was something wrong here.
A few businesses were still lit up—a diner with a neon sign proclaimingDesert Sunrisein electric blue, and what looked like a bar further down.Most of the other storefronts were dark, their windows reflecting her car’s headlights back like wary eyes.
She pulled into a parking spot in front of the diner, figuring it was as good a place as any to get her bearings.The moment she stepped out of her car, the desert air slid over her—dry and crisp, carrying scents she couldn’t quite identify.Something wild and green, maybe sage?And underneath that, something else, something that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
Get it together, Etta, she chided herself.It’s just new-town jitters.
The bell above the diner’s door chimed as she walked in, and every head in the place turned to look at her.She’d expected some attention—small towns usually noticed newcomers—but this felt different.More intense.Like she was being assessed rather than just observed.
A tall man leaning on the counter straightened up, his shoulders squaring as if preparing for…something.
The waitress behind the counter put a hand on his arm, and he relaxed slightly, but his eyes never left Etta.Dark eyes, she noticed, and she found herself unconsciously tilting her head as she studied him, some instinct making her want to maintain eye contact longer than felt socially comfortable.A small rumble built in her throat before she could stop it, and she quickly disguised it as a cough.
Welcome to the Desert Sunrise,the waitress called out, her voice warm but careful.Sit anywhere you like.
Etta chose a booth near the door, telling herself it was because she wanted to keep an eye on her car with all her belongings inside, not because some primitive part of her brain was screaming for a clear escape route.The leather seat squeaked as she slid in, and she caught another whiff of that strange scent from outside, stronger now.It made something deep inside her stir restlessly.
Coffee?the waitress asked, appearing at her table with a pot in hand.Her name tag readSarah.She positioned herself between Etta and the rest of the diner’s occupants, as if shielding her from too much attention.
Please,Etta said, wrapping her hands around the mug as soon as Sarah filled it.And maybe some help?I’m looking for theSunburst Heraldoffice.I’m supposed to start work there tomorrow, but my GPS gave up the ghost a while back.
Sarah’s hand tightened on the coffee pot.Just slightly, but Etta noticed.She’d always been good at reading people’s microexpressions—it was part of what made her a good journalist.What she read in Sarah’s face now was…concern?No, wariness.
You’re the new owner,Sarah said.It wasn’t a question.
Editor, actually.Hired by the new owner.Etta took a sip of coffee.It was good—rich and dark, not the watered-down stuff she’d expected from a small-town diner.News travels fast.
It’s a small town,Sarah replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.We don’t get many newcomers.
The man from the counter had drifted closer, trying to look casual about it and failing spectacularly.He was even taller up close, broad-shouldered and muscular.Something about his presence made Etta’s skin prickle, like static electricity before a storm.
Nick,he said by way of introduction.Sarah’s husband.Welcome to Sunburst.
Etta shook his offered hand, noting the calluses.His grip was careful, controlled, like someone very aware of their own strength.
Etta Barone,she said.Thanks for the welcome, though I’m starting to feel like I should have sent out a press release about my arrival.If only the paper was already up and running.
