Chapter Thirteen.
The lights had stayed on all night. Fear of him thinking she wouldn’t be waiting for him. But she had…stayed up all night. The few times she fallen asleep, noise outside the window or from the front room woke her.
At one time she’d stepped outside onto the porch hoping she’d see the headlamp of his bike coming up the road. All she found was the chatter of foxes moving across the field. Or it might have been coyotes she hadn’t stuck around to find out.
With the sunup pouring light into the cabin Constance stood in the kitchen waiting for the coffee to brew. She hoped Faith could bring her home. She had things to do all though she didn’t know how she would concentrate while she worried about Frost.
If she wasn’t careful the worry of the unknown would cripple her. She knew how fast someone could be stripped from your life. Constance thought about her late husband.
Gripping the counter she felt a pang of guilt as the coffee dripped steadily into the pot, a low, steady rhythm that did little to quiet the flutter in her chest.
She held onto the counter, staring out at the field of golden hay. The morning sun was climbing, brushing the tops of the stalks with light, and for a moment, everything seemed to hold its breath. Almost peaceful.
But her mind refused the calm. The memory of Frost leaving in a rush, the sound of his bike roaring away until the silence was deafening.
She’d tried to relax in the tub but calm never came.
Now It had crawled back in, sharp and insistent, and with it came the familiar ghost of guilt.
Three years. Three years since the accident, since her husband had been ripped from her world, leaving silence behind.
And still… still the thought that she could care for someone else, even in the smallest way, made her chest tighten.
She had loved her husband—truly—but it had not been the consuming fire she’d imagined in her youth. It had softened into something gentler, more companionable than thrilling.
That should have been enough to free her from this lingering guilt, but it wasn’t. Because now, thinking of Frost who had left her with racing heartbeats and quickened breaths made her feel as if she were betraying someone sacred.
Her eyes followed the wind across the hay, golden waves bending and twisting.
Desire and worry tangled, each amplifying the other. She wanted him safe. She wanted him near. And yet, the ghost of her past whispered that wanting might be wrong.
The aroma of coffee filled the kitchen, rich and grounding.
Pulling down a mug Constance poured the coffee, she took a sip, letting the warmth settle into her hands.
She would wait. Watch. Hope. And maybe, somewhere deep beneath the guilt and fear, she would allow herself to continue to feel the spark of something new.
With the cup in hand she headed for the bedroom.
She needed to get dressed and walk up to the main house.
Hopefully she could catch a ride home. Even with the store being closed for the week she had calls to make and inventory to work on.
And none of that was going to get done pacing the floors there.
She set the coffee cup aside and moved through her familiar paces—washing her face, brushing her teeth, applying her makeup with practiced precision. Once she looked like herself, she felt put together. Steady. The kind of woman who didn’t unravel just because a man hadn’t come home.
She pulled on a pair of rhinestone-covered pocket jeans, a casual top. Boots shoved on without ceremony. She gathered her things, then stripped the bed and straightened the cabin, erasing any sign of the night she’d spent waiting.
Cleaning helped. It gave her something to do with her hands, something to focus on besides the question she couldn’t answer.
Is he safe?
With the coffee pot washed and the linens rolled into a bundle, Constance slung her purse and overnight bag across her shoulder and picked up the linens. Stepping out onto the porch she pulled the door closed behind her and headed for the main house. Hopefully faith was home.
If she had to call Jinx for a ride, she felt like it would be similar to the walk of shame.
The best she could do was busy herself with work and push aside the worry.
She told herself not every goodbye had to be permanent.
Hoisting the bundle of linens higher she maneuvered across the back lawn until she came to the back porch.
Ahlf way up the steps the door lurched open as a bright-eyed Faith came into view.
“Oh, my, let me help you with all of that.” She said, taking the linens from Constance.
Turning back Faith nodded her head, “come on inside.”
Constance followed the pretty redhead back inside the house.
She wanted desperately to ask her if she’d heard from the guys but before she had the chance Maddog stepped into view buttoning up his shirt, his hair looked damp from a shower.
His eyes when they caught sight of her looked tired.
She didn’t miss the fresh bruise that marred his jaw.
“Morning Constance.” Maddog said stepping into the kitchen.
Damn he’d forgotten she was staying on the property. The last thing he needed or wanted to do was explain how his brother wasn’t back yet. That he might not be back for a while. The shit part of it was he couldn’t tell her anything else. It was club business and not even faith was privy to it.
“Morning. Sorry to interrupt your morning, I wanted to bring the linens up and see if Faith could give me a ride home.”
Fuck. Faith was about to head to work which left him to drive her home.
“Let me get my coffee made and I can take you home.” He moved past her his boots moving across the hard wood floor. “Faith is about to leave for work.”
Faith popped out of the laundry room, “I work at the hospital, I’m a nurse.” She told Constance as she moved around the kitchen putting dishes away. Packing her lunch.
All the while, Constance stood quietly by the back door watching as the couple exchanged glances. Rubbing her hand over her forehead she thought for a second she might have interrupted a private moment between the two. That was until Faith opened her mouth.
“Maddog. If you don’t tell her, I will.”
Constance felt light headed. “Frost?”
Maddog looked at his wife and shook his head. Damn woman. “He’s fine.” Well, for the most part. Maddog was sure Frost didn’t look much better than the rest of them did.
“We needed him to head out of town for a few days to find someone for us.” He didn’t wanna tell Constance that Frost had taken off after he had dealt with Tiny and Booger.
The beating the man had doled out was a thing of beauty.
But he and Undertaker had seen the turmoil in Frost’s eyes and knew he needed time. Time to get his demons under control.
Maddog was glad he’d never be on the receiving end of Frost’s fist.
“I’m sure he’ll call when he gets where he’s going.”
He watched Constance closely. He couldn’t get a read on her. And that unsettled Maddog. He liked an unemotional woman just as much as he hated a hysterical one.
“I’m sure he will.” Constance finally said. She didn’t smile because it wouldn’t be genuine.
“Listen…”
“It’s fine. Some things aren’t for me to know.” She told him. “I’m new to all of you. If it were reversed, I wouldn’t tell you things that weren’t your business either.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
Screwing the lid on his thermos, Maddog kissed Faith, “you’re in trouble come tonight.” He whispered in her ear. Then nipped it playfully.
The look she gave him didn’t go missed by him or Constance.
“Ready?”
“Yes.” Constance nodded, “Faith I hope we get to visit again, soon.” Then she turned and followed Maddog out the house. Just get me home.