Chapter 44
One week later
Noelle sat on her back patio, wrapped up in a fleece blanket, the gas firepit making cheery flames nearby. Nearly all the local snow had melted, but it’d left a thick white coat on the Cascades. The deep-blue sky and white mountains made a stunning view from her chair.
But her favorite view at the moment, way out by the stable, was of Emma leading the old horse Harley out to a pasture as Ina Smythe watched from close by.
The older woman had stopped by three times in the past week to check on Emma.
“She’s our girl now,” she’d told Noelle. “She needs looking after.”
It was nice to have a horse in the stable. Noelle had doubted she’d ever use the facility, but now she wondered if Harley needed a companion. She didn’t like the idea of the old gelding alone in the big stable at night.
How quickly I went from no horses to possibly multiple.
Or maybe a goat or donkey would be fun. She’d read somewhere they made good horse companions.
She’d brought Emma home with her the first night, promising she could stay as long as she wanted.
The teenager had been distraught about Hammaker’s death.
He’d been the only person who’d been kind to her in a long time.
Noelle had driven Emma to her old home to grab whatever she needed.
To Noelle’s shock, all she’d done was dig in her mattress to get a charm bracelet.
“It was my mother’s,” she’d told Noelle. “It’s all I have left.”
She had wanted nothing else from the house. Except Cornbread. She couldn’t catch the cat, so they’d borrowed a cat trap. He’d been furious inside the trap, hissing and spitting, but he’d calmed down when he realized Emma was nearby.
Then they’d gone to get her clothing and check on Harley at Hammaker’s farm, where Noelle had promised the tearful teenager that the gelding could live out his days in her stable.
A wild cat, a bracelet, and an old horse.
It wasn’t a bad set of possessions.
Her father’s body hadn’t been found. Mark Bourdon’s rented town house had been searched from top to bottom. Gage Chambers had probably been dumped somewhere like Michael Munoz.
After all the men involved had been interviewed, it appeared that Mark Bourdon simply got rid of people who disagreed with him or caused problems. When Gage Chambers hadn’t returned to the meetings, Mark had told them he’d dropped out.
The same had happened with Michael Munoz.
But Eli Chisholm had seemed to be more deeply involved.
The other men believed he’d helped with getting rid of Gage Chambers in return for his truck.
But something had gone south, and Mark had had him killed.
No camera had covered him when he’d placed the body in the judge’s trunk. But Noelle’s money was on Monday evening, when the judge and his wife had gone to a restaurant and he’d parked down the street instead of in the lot to avoid door dings.
Mark’s home had been a huge source of information on boogaloo, conspiracy theories, and white nationalism. He’d come out of prison with a new tattoo, indoctrinated and convinced that he could lead the group he’d belonged to years before, when Tommy Hammaker had been the leader.
But suddenly he was using his power for retribution against people who’d disagreed with him. As he’d done with Gage Chambers, who’d once been a close friend of Mark’s. Now his body couldn’t be found.
Noelle’s phone chimed. Max had inputted the code to open her gate. She smiled, watching on her phone as his vehicle came up her long driveway. He’d been staying at her place as much as Emma.
Almost losing him in the bunker explosion had made her realize how important he was to her. Her life would have never been the same. In a short time, Max had made a huge impact, and she couldn’t imagine being without him. This wasn’t a time to be taking things slowly. Soon she’d ask him to move in.
I know he’ll agree.
Max paused outside Noelle’s front door, then opened it and walked right in.
That was a first.
“Noelle?” She probably knew he was on the premises, but it seemed polite to announce himself. “Emma?” No answer to either name.
“Meowrrr.”
The orange cat did a figure eight between Max’s legs. “Hey, Cornbread.” He bent over and scratched the cat’s head. The outside cat had rapidly become an inside cat when he realized he had a heated bed and several cat condos to nap on and scratch and that his food bowl was always full.
Yeah, it’s a good life here.
Max had brought a bag with more clothes. He’d taken a good-natured ribbing from Keira and TJ about his new sleeping situation. The couple had spent two nights in hiding and then had been shocked to hear what had occurred while they were gone.
Keira had canceled her sisters’ weekend visit. She had told them what Max had gone through, including being forced to shoot to save a life, but nothing had changed on their end. Radio silence from both women and Max’s mother continued.
There’s nothing I can do. I’ve tried.
It was time to move on. If they had a change of heart, they could reach out to him. He’d always be ready to have them in his life again.
He dropped his bag in the primary bedroom and went looking for Noelle, soon spotting her wrapped up in a blanket on a lounger on the huge patio. The wall of windows framed her with the mountains in the background, sharp against the blue sky.
How is this my life?
He slid open the glass door, pulled up a chair next to her, and handed her their latte.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.
After a long moment she pushed him away and studied his face. “How can it be worse than this morning?”
“I know. I can’t wait to get through this part.” He was peeling. And peeling and peeling. No matter what he put on the burned area, it eventually flaked off and peeled some more. He found white flakes all over the front of his clothes every day.
Hammaker’s second bunker hadn’t been wired with a booby trap like the first. The consensus from the interviews with Bourdon’s men was that Hammaker had cleaned out the weapons and explosives over the years but left the timed booby trap.
Possibly it had been payback for anyone who attempted to steal from him—even if they’d discovered an empty bunker.
The men said Hammaker hadn’t been around their group in years.
They’d been surprised to see him show up at the cabins.
Later they’d understood he was only there because Bourdon had threatened to kill Emma if he didn’t cooperate.
Bourdon had realized he was losing support; he’d thought Hammaker’s presence would help rally his men behind him.
That plan had slowly crumbled in the cabin.
Max sat back in his chair and put up his feet, holding her hand. He couldn’t wait for summer and warm breezes as they sat outside. A far-off movement caught his eye, and he spotted Emma out with the horse.
As usual.
If she wasn’t cuddling Cornbread—who’d rapidly morphed into a lazy lap cat—she was out with Harley.
“Mercy told me she talked to Cory,” said Noelle. “She decided it was the right thing to tell Cory that Rachel was pregnant when she died.”
“How did she take it?”
“Not great, but better than Mercy had hoped. She’s pulling together her sister’s poems. She’s planning to print them in a book.”
“That’s great,” said Max. “It might be very healing.”
“I hope so.”
“Today Emma asked if I could look for her mother,” Noelle said quietly. “I’d already done a little checking. It’s been ten years, and I found nothing recent under her name.”
“She might be dead,” said Max. “I don’t know if I would have ever trusted Gage Chambers.”
“I wouldn’t have,” said Noelle. “The more stories Emma tells me, the more I hate him. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if he killed his wife.”
“Do you think Emma has considered that?” asked Max.
“Yes. She told me her suspicions today.”
“That poor girl,” said Max. “She’s had a tough life.”
“I’m determined to change that,” said Noelle. “I called my lawyer about setting up a trust for her. But I know she needs more than money. She needs friends. And a community. I’m going to try my hardest with that too.”
“You’re a very good person,” said Max, surprised that he loved her more than ever after hearing her say that. He hadn’t thought a deeper love was possible.
“You’re a good person too,” she said, sitting up in her lounger. “More than I deserve. That damned explosion nearly took you away before we’d really gotten started. I hated that I didn’t know if you were dead or alive for several minutes. It tore me apart.”
“I’m sorry,” said Max. “I didn’t intend to almost die.”
“Not funny!” She glared at him. “But even with your poor sense of humor, I love you a lot. More than a lot.”
“I love you too.”
She’s leading up to something.
“I know I’ve insisted that we take it slow,” she said, gripping both his hands in hers. “But I’m over that.”
“You are?” Something hopeful swelled inside him. He’d been sticking close since he nearly died, and he thought he’d felt a change in her, but he’d decided to not say anything, still worried that he might scare her off.
I’ve known since day one that she was the woman for me.
Keeping his mouth shut had been the ultimate exercise in patience.
“Absolutely. You could say I’ve had the ultimate wake-up call.” She took a deep breath. “I want more of you in my life—no, I want it all if you’re willing.” She held his gaze, her blue eyes intense. But lurking behind her eyes, he saw a flicker of fear that he would turn her down.
Never in a million years.
“I’ve wanted to be with you since I first saw you,” he told her as he pulled her onto his lap.
“But I couldn’t step over that professional line.
” He kissed her neck, leading up to her ear.
“Once we got past that, I was willing to wait for you to come around. But you are so stubborn, and damn, it’s been hard to wait. ”
She tipped her head back and narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that an insult?”
“Nope. That’s the truth. I love you, and I can’t wait to see what our life together will be like.”
It’ll be perfect.