Facing the Fire Page 9

"What's out there?" She didn't believe in psychic visions or powers. Or even auras. But Marin did. And Marin almost always seemed to know what she was talking about.

  "Probably someone who will get what's coming to him eventually. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, hiding who he really is." Marin stood in the only entrance to the hall—physically blocking Maggie, the baby, and her own little sister from the back door. "If someone comes through that door who shouldn't, you three go out the back window of the nursery. It’s low enough to the ground for you, Mag. Keep going until you get to the far barn. I'm sure Clint and that buddy of his can find you there."

  "And you?"

  "I'll be bringing up the rear. Can't really run in these pretty shoes." Marin didn't seem worried. Not at all. Maggie wouldn’t lie—that did help her relax. A little. "But it really won't be that necessary. Our heroes will be back in just a moment—angry and determined—but in one piece. Ready to devour the pies Grandma sent."

  To put proof to Marin's words, the door pushed open. Rex came in first. Marin had shifted in front of Maggie. Maggie had to look around the taller woman's shoulder to see who it was. "What's happened? Where's Clint?"

  "He's waiting for a deputy from Masterson, out on the porch."

  "Why?" Maggie stepped around Marin. She didn't need her friend to protect her. Even almost eight months pregnant. "What was out there?"

  "Who," Rex said. "A prowler. Sped off in an old truck when we went outside. We both saw him."

  "How do you know it wasn't someone coming to see Clint or Maggie that you frightened off?" Meyra asked, quietly. She'd huddled next to the wall in the hallway, her arms around herself. She was shy, quiet, and easily frightened. "It could have been anyone."

  "Someone just visiting would have said hello when Clint called out. Identified himself. But he’s gone now, Meyra. I promise. You don’t have to be afraid," Rex said, as Clint came inside. “I’ll see this is taken care.”

  There was such anger on Clint’s face, Maggie's breath caught. Her arms tightened around Violet instinctively.

  She hadn't forgotten what had happened five months ago. Not by a long shot. "I thought that case was over."

  Even she heard the accusation in her words. Everyone paused to look at her. Maggie forced herself not to flip out. To breathe. She had dealt with that day, dealt with all of it. It was behind her. Five months of therapy at W4HAV—a women’s charity Mel funded in Finley Creek—had made sure of that.

  But back here…it was all rushing back. She should have expected that. Should have expected the memories to resurface.

  It wasn’t just the shooting—it was the two months of anxiety that had led up to it. She pulled in a deep breath, as the baby kicked her again. She had to get her balance back. She was not going to freak out over this. She wasn’t.

  Maggie didn’t freak over things. Ever. She never had, and she wasn’t about to start now. She was a Tyler; she was tougher than that.

  "It is. All of my cases are over. But Weatherby's aren't. He's here to get some of Clive's old cases. Someone's been screwing around in them. But other than that—I want no part of it. I’m finished with law enforcement, Maggie. I promise you that. I’m just a rancher now. Period."

  20

  Clint saw the fear and the fury in Tyler blue eyes. He stepped closer, wanting to touch her, just for a moment. He had made her a promise—he was going to keep that. "I'm done with law enforcement, sweetheart. You can count on that.”

  "I just...are we safe here?" Maggie held his daughter close, one feminine hand covering the little blond head as she soothed her. Violet was calm now, but her eyes were still wet. Clint would never get enough of looking at Maggie right now—especially when she held Violet.

  His world was right there.

  That someone had threatened them tonight burned him to his soul.

  "As safe as I can make you.”

  "And it wasn't someone visiting, or lost, or from the census bureau or something? How do you know?" She rocked, awkwardly, until his daughter drifted off in her arms.

  He just did. But he wouldn't lie. "In order to trip that particular alarm, he had to be screwing around near the back door. Been up on the back porch. If it hadn't been locked, he would have found his way in. The alarm had a delay that I need to fix."

  He’d have come in the back door, while they’d been eating.

  Where Maggie was. Violet. Their friends. He looked at the three women; they wouldn’t have posed much of a problem for a determined intruder. Especially if an intruder was armed.

  "Marin locked it earlier."

  Clint shot the older woman a look. She nodded. "I had a feeling it would be necessary."

  Clint ignored Rex's snort of derision.

  "Thanks."

  It took another half an hour before an SUV with Masterson County Sheriff’s Department emblazoned on the side pulled in. The sheriff himself stepped out.

  Clint automatically tensed.

  Things would never be that easy between him and the Masterson brothers. Not after what Clive and Jay had done to two of the brothers’ wives. The sheriff, Joel Masterson, had nearly lost two sisters-in-law and his own brother because of Clint's family.

  Neither man was ever going to be able to forget that.

  "Gunderson? What’s happened?"

  "A prowler tripped the rear security alarm," Clint said. "We wanted it on record that we called it in."

  "Anyone get a good look at the guy? We’ve had reports of petty burglaries in this area. Quick pawn items are being stolen and hocked. If one of you got a good look, that would go a long way…"

  Clint shook his head. "Too dark." He'd be doubling the number of security lights at the back of the house, first thing in the morning. Money wasn't as tight as it had been—not since he'd sold the two-story house in town Clive had signed over to Violet after his arrest. That money had gone to repairing the house they lived in—the rest had been put into a savings account for Violet, for when she was older.

  He had boxes full of Clive’s junk still to go through. He’d just dumped it all into the barn at one of the other ranch houses. He was going to have to make time to go through them for good. "Guy jumped into an older model truck—full cab, extended bed, toolbox on the back. Dark red or orange in the security light a hundred feet up the driveway. But with the snow flurries, I couldn’t see much more than that."

  "Any idea who it was?" Joel asked, giving Maggie a quick one-armed hug.

  Clint shook his head, resisting the urge to pull Maggie into his own arms, and away from her cousin-by-marriage. "Guy was hard to see. Had a hat on, low. Coat with the collar turned up. Wore gloves. Didn’t carry himself like he was a young guy, but was reasonably fit."

  "What in the hell was he looking for?" Joel asked.

  "That's the million-dollar question, isn't it?" Rex finally holstered his weapon and grabbed his coat. Anger practically vibrated off him. "Guess we'll just have to answer it. But first…pie.”

  21

  "Dad?" Cloe leaned forward, across the table. She loved the diner, and not just because she was good friends with one of the Talley girls. It was the food—she said it reminded her of her mother. Jody had always made a point of taking each of the children to eat dinner with her by themselves once a month. So they knew that even though they were one of five children, they were special and loved. It had taken him a few years to revive that tradition after he'd lost his wife. Now he was glad he had.

  This girl of his was absolutely beautiful. Smart as a whip, too. A nurse...like her mother. Yes, Cloe was the most like Jody. A part of his wife lived on in each of his children. He would never truly lose her fully. Not with his children so much like her. "Yes, baby?"

  "What's bothering you? I can tell something has been lately."

  "Just some things at work. That's all. Nothing for you to worry about." Two days. He’d been a mess for two days, since Clint Gunderson and Bob Weatherby’s boy had almost caught him out there.

  "You sure?"


  "I'm sure. So...what's been happening lately?" he asked, anything to distract her. Cloe could be a bit tenacious when she was worried about something.

  "Great, actually. I may be taking a supervisor position next month. If it comes available."

  "Good. I'm proud of you, kiddo. In case I haven't said it lately."

  "I know. Listen, why don't you come over to my place for dinner this weekend. I have a friend from work I'd like you to meet. She's a nice lady a few years younger than you. Her husband was killed in Afghanistan several years ago. She has three teenagers who are starting to drive her insane. I told her you might have some pointers."

  His daughter, the perpetual matchmaker. Well...maybe it was time. "I'll do that. But no promises. I'm not interested in a long-term relationship with anyone just yet. I have a few things to take care of, first."

  "Good. So...now..." her expression turned serious. "The real reason I asked you here..."

  "Oh?"

  "Someone called the hospital for me today. I didn't recognize the voice—but they...the caller told me to ask you what you did to Janice Johnson twenty-two years ago. And if I knew where you'd helped bury her body. Dad? What's going on?"

  Jasper swore. No. The bastard had gone too far. "That damned prank caller."

  "So you know about this?"

  "Janice Johnson moved to Billings seventeen years ago, honey. She had three kids, had just divorced, and never came back to Wyoming. She would call your mother occasionally. Someone has been prank calling and harassing my office for the past two months. Just being idiots, using a toy to distort their voice. I've reported it to the proper people. But he isn't the first prank caller or harasser I've dealt with in my position. It's rather par for the course. I'm just sorry you were brought into the middle of it. I'll take care of it."

  He was good at deflection, at lies. Janice Johnson had moved to Billings seventeen years ago. But she wasn’t the only Janice Johnson to have ever lived in this county. There had been Janice, the wife of Bill Johnson, before that. It had been her…

  There was still worry in his daughter's eyes. Fear for him.

  Well, Jasper was afraid, too. Because they had just stepped up the game between them. More than just the photos he'd been sent.

  There was nothing he wouldn't do to protect his daughters.

  Someone bringing Cloe into this…well, it had just changed everything.

  Jasper was going hunting.

  As soon as he dropped Cloe off at the hospital before her lunch hour ended. He had to—there was no other choice now.

  22

  After Clint and Violet took off in his truck to hit the hardware store and run errands, Maggie spent a few minutes reevaluating her plans. She spoke with Mel for around an hour about what her work would look like now that she was in Masterson, spoke with Marin briefly about Clint, and spoke with her brother Chandler about meeting him and Martin in town sometime in the next few days to talk about the houses Martin was almost ready to rent out.

  She winced.

  Chandler—her most easy-going brother—hadn’t been too happy to hear that she wasn’t staying exactly where she was—like her brothers had all expected.

  He’d demanded to know what Clint had done to chase her off and if the bastard—the father of her child, for Pete’s sake—had done anything to hurt her. Wanted to know if Chandler—and probably the rest of them—needed to come get her immediately.

  Chandler hadn’t liked it when she’d told him it wasn’t any of his business, but she just wasn’t ready to stay tucked away on Clint’s ranch washing his undershorts and warming his sheets. That what had happened between them had been a one-night stand with consequences. Consequences they were figuring out how to handle—together. That was it.

  Her brothers always had flipped whenever Maggie spoke about sex.

  Maggie needed to take control and stop being so ridiculous.

  In everything.

  She wasn’t going to keep hiding herself inside the house, either.

  It was time to claim her freedom back.

  The ranch…she’d been back long enough and hadn’t ventured out of the immediate yard surrounding the house, other than her trip to the doctor and the diner.

  In the two days since the prowler, she hadn’t stepped foot outside at all.

  Because of fear.

  Well, Joel Masterson had called. He’d caught a twenty-two year old guy from the south part of the county who’d driven an old red truck—and had stolen goods in the back. The kid had confessed to seven different burglaries.

  They had the prowler now. She was safe.

  Safe. She couldn’t hide in the house forever.

  She hadn’t even gone to the barn where the horses waited. Clint had four horses. She’d loved every one of them.

  The last time she’d seen those horses she could have died. That had affected her more deeply than she realized.

  Panic attacks when she thought about the barn weren’t a good thing—and weren’t realistic in a ranch town like Masterson.

  Maggie hated feeling like a coward.

  Well. It was time to stop being a coward. If she couldn’t even face her fear of the barn, how could she face the rest of life?

  Control—it was time she took control back. And along the way, she’d use the cool late March air to get her stupid libido back in check. No more lusting after Clint Gunderson, even subconsciously.

  How could she move forward with her plans, when she was stuck in the past?

  She couldn’t.

  Maggie grabbed Clint’s spare jacket off the hook by the back door.

  Horses first.

  Clint later.

  Her brothers…never.

  It sounded like a plan.

  23

  Maggie followed the dog to the barn, carefully. It was still muddy and slushy and not all of the snow had melted yet. The last thing she needed was to fall.

  Kody barked at her once, then took off up the hill after a hare. He loved to hunt—but as far as she knew, he was rather pathetic at it. She laughed at his antics.

  She’d missed him, too. Missed life here in Masterson County.

  It felt right, to be home now. The doubts that had plagued her about returning to Masterson County when she’d been in Finley Creek were starting to fade away.

  In one week, she would be moving to town. Building a life for herself and the baby. Maggie had spent a few hours that morning planning, anticipating what that would mean for her, for the baby, for Violet and Clint.

  She hoped he’d let her have Violet sometimes. Hoped she’d be able to preserve her relationship with the little girl she loved so much.

  Violet would be just fine where she was. She had already rebuilt the bond she’d had with her father before. She adored Clint and felt safe with him. Maggie knew that to the bottom of her soul—Violet would be ok. It was time to focus on her plans and needs now.

  Without Clint nearby to cloud her head. She couldn’t let him keep unsettling her.

  She was moving to town. It was time she got started on making that happen. There were houses available soon, and her cousin Nikki had a small apartment above the bookstore Maggie’s aunt had once run. It was only eight hundred square feet, and a single bedroom, but it would work if nothing else was available right away. Or if her brother proved uncooperative.

  She just didn’t like the idea of all of those stairs at Nikki’s place.

  Hopefully, there would be a house somewhere in town. Especially if her brothers turned…difficult. They could—if they thought they were doing what was best for her. Buttheads. They were all five total buttheads. No doubt about that.

  Independence had been her dream, her goal, for at least the last three months, but now that she was back in Masterson, she wasn’t sure that was what she wanted at all.

  It seemed too easy here. Fitting her life to Clint’s again.

  Maybe because her life had just paused five months ago—when it had already been melded so tightly with h
is.

  All the emotions and jumbled needs between them aside, she’d woke each morning all those months ago knowing she would see him.

  Went to sleep every night going over what tiny bit of contact they’d had during the day. Analyzing it for hidden meanings or anything like that.

  Now, she realized that had been no way to live.

  It hadn’t been fair to either one of them.

  She should have confronted him that day, the morning after.

  Instead of letting this whatever it was between them build and build until it had almost destroyed them. Mel had pointed out once that if Maggie hadn’t been avoiding Clint the day of the shooting, she and Violet might very well have been killed.

  It was rather hard to forget that.

  They’d had guardian angels watching over them that day. She could never regret that.

  What had happened between her and Clint those two months had been for a reason.

  It was time she accepted that.

  Maybe those two months had been for her to grow in.

  To grow up.

  She’d always had her brothers to run to if the problem got to be too big. And she’d done just that time and time again, because if they could fix it, they could control it. She wouldn’t have to risk doing something to lose them. Or be taken from them.

  Maggie was far too risk-averse, when it boiled right down to it. She was a bonified wimp.

  She’d learned that that was a habit she’d developed and fell back on every time something happened.

  She couldn’t keep living like that.

  She couldn’t keep using the house in town as a way to avoid Clint now either.

  There was stuff between them they had to work out. Really work out. No holds barred. No more skirting the issues.

  Maggie would take the first step.

  Tonight, she and Clint would talk. Determine what they were going to do for real now. The least they could do was decide on a name for their baby. They hadn’t even discussed it.

  It was time.