Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
“Hay delivery is coming Sunday,” Mom says as I escort her to the couch. “And we’ve got to get the zinnia seeds in by this weekend. Unless it snows again. We might have to start them in the greenhouse if this weather?—”
“You realize there’s no ‘you’ in this ‘we’ you keep speaking of, right?” I say, crossing my arms. On the coffee table are books of crossword puzzles and several novels, plus a brown gift bag containing some kind of yarn tangle, the long blue needles poking out of it at odd angles. I’ve vacuumed the house, dusted the couch cushions, renewed our subscription to the cable TV networks that she let lapse two years ago, washed the spare blankets, and stocked up on her favorite snacks…
“I can at least?—”
“No.”
She glares at me.
“Everything you need is right here.” I open my arms to take in the small living room that has also doubled as a seedling sanctuary, baby animal nursery, and a staging area for peach canning, jam making, and pickling .
With a sigh, she slumps into the couch.
“You hungry? I have sandwich fixings, or I could scramble some eggs.”
“This is weird, Rye.”
“I know.” My chest tightens seeing her on the couch when her normal is Mach 9. “Let me make you a cup of tea.”
I can practically see the spinning wheels in her mind begin to slow. “All right. Not too much sugar though.”
I lean down and kiss her on the forehead. “Coming right up.”
An hour later, I’m out in the greenhouse feeding the chicks when Beth’s car door slams outside followed by the front door to the house. By the time I get to the barn, I can tell she’s here, but I’m surprised to hear her muffled crying.
“Beth?” I follow the sounds to Taffy’s stall, where Beth has her arms around her horse’s neck. She’s dressed for chores in faded jeans, boots, and the Air Force fatigues jacket she stole from me after my first deployment. It’s way too big but by how faded it looks, that hasn’t stopped her from wearing it.
Beth doesn’t turn around. “Why did she have to die?”
Marin . “I don’t know.”
“Is it true you found her?”
I release a slow breath to keep the memory of Marin’s still face from creeping any further into my mind. “Yeah.”
“They questioned Troy.”
“Are they together?” The moment it leaves my lips, I want to kick myself. Insensitive much? Plus, questions like that are for Zach and his team.
“They’re close,” Beth says. “But there’s no way he did this.”
Asking if Beth knows who might have been calling Marin from a burner phone is on the tip of my tongue, but I bite it back because that question is laden with information I can’t share. And Zach and Everett have likely already asked it. “Troy was out there today. ”
Beth glances over her shoulder. Her eyes and nose are red, like she cried all the way home from work. “I’m glad he wasn’t with you when you found her.”
He tried to get down to the rocks, but he has zero technical training. Captain Greely sent him home with the others.
“Me too.” I wish I hadn’t been there, either.
She swipes at her cheeks and releases a shaky sigh. “Thanks for getting Mom home.”
“That was the easy part,” I say. “Keeping her on that couch is going to be a challenge.”
Beth gives me a weak smile, then closes her eyes and kisses Taffy’s neck.
Car doors slam from outside, followed by the distant murmur of voices. “Looks like our helpers are here.”
We share one last glance before I rock back from the door and head outside.
After supper, I change into running gear and slip into the dusk. I tune into the tap of my sneakers and the rhythm of my breaths, the mountain air cool on my lips. Moonbeam Farm is a few miles from town, so by the time I get to the elementary school, I’m warmed up and my mind is starting to clear. I detour at the playground and use one of the bars for pull-ups, then add a round of sit-ups. I think about what Marin’s family must be going through, and the avalanche of questions that need answering.
When I jump up for another round of pull-ups, a figure outside the fence darts past, her dark ponytail swaying and the reflective patches on her running shoes flashing in the streetlights. In two steps I’m vaulting over the fence.
Ava turns, her alarmed expression turning to confusion. “Hutch?”
I should have let her pass by—seeing her in those running shorts that show off her incredible ass and toned, powerful legs is doing things to my body.
“Thought that might be you, Greely.” I fall in next to her and match her pace.
She side-eyes me. “What are you doing?”
“Getting in a workout, same as you.” I don’t love that she’s running at night alone, even in Finn River. And after today, I’m even less thrilled.
“You’re a ways from home,” she says.
“It was that kind of day.”
We run in silence up a slight rise.
“I heard about the search. That must have been awful,” she says at the crest.
I’m sure it’s going to visit me tonight in my sleep, but I don’t share that with Ava. “Any idea how she could have ended up in a situation like that?”
“She was a patient of Dr. Boone’s but she hasn’t been in since I took over.”
Meaning Ava didn’t have a relationship with her.
“What happened to her is bad enough.” Ava shakes her head. “But then she had to be…dumped like that. I can’t imagine what her family is going through right now.”
“There’s a candlelight vigil downtown at the waterfront tonight,” I say.
“Good,” Ava says. “Grief is hard enough alone.”
As we near the next crossroads, Ava says, “This is my street.”
“I’ll go with you,” I say.
She scowls at me. “I don’t need an escort.”
“Well, you’re getting one.”
“What if I don’t want you to know where I live?”
“Afraid I’ll come raid your fridge?”
She laughs. “Yes! My coffee fudge chunk is an important part of my self-care routine.”
My insides give a sharp twist because I’m the only self-care she’d ever need. “I would never dream of touching your stash.” Maybe I’ll be lucky and dream about her instead of what I experienced today .
“Pinky promise?” She turns up a narrow, paved driveway, and holds up her pinky.
My heart does a double thump inside my chest. I wrap my pinky around hers as we slow to a walk. “Pinky promise.”
Though her pinky slips free, a current of heat zips over my skin.
The driveway ends at a one-story house with a small yard bordered by giant pines and cottonwoods. The covered stoop is edged by tidy hydrangeas and peonies poking out of the bark. But my eye is immediately drawn to the front door that’s not completely shut.
“That’s weird,” Ava says, her body going still beside me.
“Did you leave it like that?” I give the yard a quick scan while also listening for movement. Did we just scare off a prowler?
“I don’t think so.”
I eye her.
“I leave from the back.”
“Is it locked?”
“Yes.”
“Okay if I check this out?”
She gives me a worried glance. “You think someone’s here?”
“No,” I say.
With a full breath, she nods. “I’m coming in, too.”
Seeing that determined gleam in her eye makes me want to pull her into my arms and kiss her.
Focus.
I step into the house. “Hello?” To my left is a small living room with a loveseat, coffee table, and TV. Behind it, with a big window overlooking the side yard is a dining area with an oval wood table. A vase of flowers sits to the side, near her laptop and a glass of water on a coaster.
“My laptop is still here,” Ava says.
In the back is the kitchen, the lighting under the cabinets creating a soft glow. Through the glass door I can partially see from here is more yard and trees. I slip past the table, my senses on full alert, to the kitchen, but everything is neat.
“Anything missing?” I walk to the sliding glass door that leads to a small deck. Hanging from the eaves are two hummingbird feeders, both half full. I unlock the sliding door and open it, then lock it again.
“Nope,” Ava says.
I follow a short hallway to a T. Straight ahead is a spacious bathroom with two sinks, a freestanding bathtub, and in the right corner, a glass-walled shower enclosure. I peek into the laundry area at the end of the hallway to the right, where a washer and dryer unit are stacked next to a counter and cabinets.
Ava passes me and walks down the hall to the left, to what I’m guessing is the bedroom. “Everything looks the same,” she says from the doorway.
“Huh.” Could we have interrupted someone as they were in the process of breaking in?
Even in the low light, I catch the tension in her gaze. “I probably just didn’t close the door all the way when I got home.”
“It’s not like you to be forgetful,” I say carefully.
She brushes past me. I follow her to the kitchen, where she fills a glass of water from the tap.
“Does anyone else have a key?” I ask.
She takes a long sip of her water. “Mom. My landlord.”
Her mom would have notified Ava before coming over. “Any reason the landlord came by?” If it’s him, I’d sure as hell want to know why he’d drop by at this hour.
“He did mention a heating guy, but it’s supposed to be next week.” She slips her phone from the pocket at the back of her shorts and starts texting. Almost as soon as she sends it, a reply dings.
“Not him.” Ava sets her phone down again. “It had to be me. I was thinking about Marin. And you, and...”
I try to catch her eye but she’s looking down as she drinks another sip of her water .
“Sorry, can I get you anything?” She sets the glass down on the counter and crosses to the fridge, but once it’s open, she seems to lose her purpose. “I have…uh…”
Gently, I push the fridge closed. “Thinking about me how? Finish that sentence.”
Her eyes meet mine, but her look hardens, and I know I’m not going to like what’s about to come out of her mouth. “And how I let my guard down that night.”
“I let mine down too.” For her. Only for her . No woman has ever done it for me the way Ava does. No woman has even come close, and I’m starting to think no one ever will.
She takes a step back. “And look where it got us.”
The sting in my chest moves to my throat. “You bailed, not me.”
Her eyes flash. “I had to.”
“You chose to.”
She leans back against the counter and scrubs her cheeks with her hands. “If I had stayed, what would you have done?”
Images flash through my mind. My hands on her body. Her garbled moans. Her eager, sensual kisses.
“Taken you back to bed.”
She inhales a shaky breath and looks away. “You don’t think that would have made things harder?”
“Maybe.” I take a step toward her and offer my hand. To my relief, she takes it, and lets me tug her into an embrace.
“I miss you,” she whispers into my shoulder. “I miss the way we used to be.”
Fuck, do I miss it too. “We’re here now,” I say, because isn’t now all we ever have? Something I remember her saying that night, before that kiss she gave me on the dock, the one that changed everything. Changed us .
She releases a soft sigh, then steps back. “Are you going to be okay tonight?”
“Doubtful.” Especially after holding her like that. I arch an eyebrow. “Any chance you’d like to help? ”
She throws her head back and laughs. Then she turns on her heel and glances over her shoulder, leveling me with a no-nonsense glare. “You can see yourself out.”
Do I feast my eyes on her sensational ass and the swing of her ponytail as she saunters away? Hell yes, and I’m not one bit sorry.
Once she’s out of sight, I double check the sliding glass door, all the windows, and at the front door, I give it a quick inspection for tampering before I twist the lock and step into the night. It kills me to leave, knowing she’s all by herself.
Especially if she’s wrong, and someone was here tonight.