Chapter 20
Twenty
Once again, despite her churned-up emotions, Bronwyn fell asleep and slept hard. When her alarm went off at seven, she rolled over and stared at the clock she kept on her bedside table.
She’d slept ten hours. Ten. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that, and she refused to dwell on the reason why. Especially because she was sure her sleep had been peaceful—not as much because of her exhaustion but because she hadn’t been alone.
She pulled on a robe and went to the kitchen for coffee. Meredith blew her a kiss from the front door. “Gotta run. I’ll check in later.”
Mo sat in the same spot he’d been in when she left him last night. But the sheets had been used, refolded, and now sat on the opposite end of the sofa.
Something about the way he’d positioned them made her think he expected to need them again soon.
Was he planning to stay again tonight? What if he was? Would that be such a bad thing?
Mo jumped to his feet and stalked to her front door. As he reached it, the doorbell chimed.
She moved toward him, but he caught her eye and shook his head.
She froze.
Mo glanced at the camera and opened the door but left the storm door closed. “Good morning.” There was no hostility in his words. If she hadn’t seen the intense look of warning on his face seconds before, she would have thought he was chilling on a beach somewhere.
“Um, hi. Good morning, sir. I’m sorry.” The young voice on the other side of the door was familiar. “Mrs. Pierce sent a message for Ms. Pierce.”
“I’ll take it.”
Bronwyn finally placed the voice, and when she did, she moved to the door. Sure enough, a wide-eyed bellhop stood on the other side.
“Good morning, Sebastian.”
“Ms. Pierce.” He looked relieved and also shocked to see her. Or maybe the shock was at seeing Mo.
Mo opened the door, took the envelope Sebastian held out, closed the storm door, and handed it to Bronwyn.
She took the envelope.
“Mrs. Pierce asked me to wait for a reply.” There was no need to ask which Mrs. Pierce Sebastian was referring to. The heavy paper and formal lettering answered that.
“I’ll just be a moment,” Bronwyn told him.
“Yes, ma’am.” He had a definite gray cast to his skin. Poor kid. He looked like a man who’d seen some stuff this morning. If he’d been anywhere near her grandmother, he probably had.
She stepped away and opened the envelope. “I would be pleased if you would join me for an early luncheon. Eleven a.m. My home.” She read the words aloud, almost to herself, but also so Mo would, maybe, stop hovering and glowering.
She read the words again. Her grandmother was dying, and she was still scheduling brunch. Of course she was. And heaven forbid she do anything so bourgeois as to send an email or a text. No. It had to be a written invitation.
Bronwyn ran to her office and grabbed a correspondence card from her stash—a gift from her grandmother several years ago that she rarely used—and dashed off an acceptance.
Mo hadn’t followed her into the room, but he stood in the hallway. When she emerged from the office, he held out his hand.
She could argue, but it wasn’t worth it. She handed the envelope to Mo and followed him to the door.
Mo kept his body mostly in front of hers, like Sebastian was a threat, and again handed off the envelope with quick efficiency. The storm door closed, and Bronwyn spoke to Sebastian through the glass. “Thank you for running her errands.” It was part of his job description, but still.
“I don’t mind, Ms. Pierce. Mrs. Pierce is a nice lady.”
Bronwyn didn’t try to hide her surprise, and Sebastian grinned, finally relaxing in Mo’s presence. “She is nice,” he said. “She tries to come across as grumpy. But she just likes things the way she likes them. She’s lived long enough to earn that, I think.”
Maybe. Maybe not. But at least she wasn’t terrifying the kid on a regular basis.
“We’ll see how nice she is to me later this morning.” She winked and sent Sebastian on his way.
Mo closed the door, locked it, and reset the alarm, all without looking at her.
That had been . . . weirdly intense.
She should head in to the office, but her office was chaos. What she needed most was to breathe some fresh air. She glanced at her watch. If she put some speed on, she had time for a walk.
Her phone rang and she put it on speaker. “Cal, good morning.”
“Morning.” He yawned. “Listen, if you’re going to your grandmother’s later, I think you should be reasonably safe, but you need to understand that someone will be hanging close. Either Mo or Donovan will be nearby. And Randall will be on-site.”
She sent Mo what she hoped was a laser beam of annoyance, but apparently she got it wrong because he smirked at her. Smirked! His eyebrows raised, his head cocked, his look said, “What are you going to do about it?”
Who needed words when they could communicate with body language?
“Cal—”
“Not optional, Beep. Mo has more digging to do. We have to get this sorted. Deal with it. Go about your business. Do what you need to do. But don’t be surprised when you have company.”
“My grandmother won’t accept that.”
“She can’t stop Randall from being nearby. He works security. You can sell that.”
“Is there any point in arguing?” She spoke to Cal, but her eyes were fixed on Mo as she said the words.
His response was to turn back to his computer.
“Not really.” Cal’s response was gentle but firm. “Beep, you’ve stepped in yellow jackets, and those buggers are mean. Give us a few days of paranoia. If Mo can sort it out and we’re sure you’re secure, we’ll let it go.”
His voice dropped into a low whisper. “We aren’t taking chances. There’ve been too many close calls the last couple of years. Give us this. Please.”
He had a point. Landry and Eliza, Cal, Cassie, Meredith . . . there’d been too much drama for anyone to press on naively believing everything would work out.
“Fine.”
Mo’s shoulders dropped in relief. Cal’s relief was audible. “Thank you.”
“But I’m not sitting around like some kind of princess in a tower being guarded by a dragon.”
And why did the image of Mo as a dragon fit so well?
“No one expects you to. That would be suspicious, and we don’t want anyone more on alert than they already are.”
“Fine. I’m going for a walk. I need to breathe. I need some sunshine and fresh air. Then I’m going to come home, then go to Grandmother’s for brunch.”
“Fun.”
“Yeah. Fun.”
“What’s after brunch?”
“I don’t know.” She closed her eyes and blew out a slow breath.
She was the one who’d called in reinforcements.
She’d asked for help. For a moment, she let the terror from a few nights ago sweep over her and appreciation swamped her irritation.
“I’ll let you know. Okay? I do have work to do.
” She always had work to do. “I’ll probably be in my office. ”
“Okay. Sounds good. Enjoy your walk. And brunch. Tell Grandmother hello from me.”
“Sure.”
“She likes me.”
“Since when?”
“Since I married Landry.” That was probably true. “She thinks bringing Landry to The Haven is the best thing you’ve ever done. We have that in common.”
“Huh. Well, okay. I’ll tell her.”
Cal’s humor faded away. “Beep, maybe don’t tell her that.”
“Why not?”
“She’s tried to get Landry to tell her how y’all met several times, but Landry always deflects. So if that isn’t a conversation you want to have, maybe don’t go there. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
Bronwyn had never talked to her grandmother or her parents about the rehab facility where she’d met Landry. They knew she’d been in rehab, but they’d assumed it was for alcohol or drug dependence.
They had no idea of the battle she’d almost lost. Landry and Meredith knew, so she had to assume that Cal, Gray, and Mo did as well.
But no one in her family had a clue that when control had been stripped away, she’d sought to control the one thing she could, and in the process had nearly starved herself to death.
Cal’s tone was so contrite that Bronwyn wished they were talking in person so she could hug him. “Thanks for the heads-up, Cal. Maybe it’s time to have that conversation. I’ll play it by ear.”
“I’m sorry, Beep.”
“Don’t be. It all worked for the good. Remember that. I got what I needed, and I met Landry and then I was able to help her when she needed it. And now we’re both safe and whole.” Well, Landry was. Bronwyn wasn’t sure if she’d ever been safe or ever would be.
“Alrighty,” Cal said. “Stay sharp. Keep your eyes and ears open. Pay attention to weirdness. Don’t let pride keep you from reacting. We’d rather you cry wolf a hundred times than stay quiet and be eaten.”
Mo grunted and shook his head at Cal’s words.
“Thank you for that vivid imagery.”
“You’re welcome.” Either Cal didn’t pick up on her sarcasm or he didn’t care. Probably the latter. “Later.”
“Later.” She disconnected the call and tried to put Cal’s dire warnings out of her mind as she changed.
Ten minutes later, she walked out of her house. She had her phone in the pocket of her hiking leggings, and that was it. The door to her home had a keypad, so she didn’t need anything else.
She’d nodded at Mo as she walked out. He’d acknowledged her but hadn’t moved to get up.
Maybe he assumed she was safe on the property?
No. That didn’t match his current level of paranoia.
But she was pretty sure she was safe in broad daylight.
So she headed out and focused on breathing and being where she was.
It took her five minutes to reach the private walking trail that was her favorite place to walk when she didn’t have time to hike to Catherine’s Falls.
The trail followed a small stream and wound through mountain laurel and pine trees that hid the rest of the resort from view.
It was open to all the guests, but only a few ever used it.