Chapter 25
When I woke up, sunshine was streaming into the bedroom, and I felt fantastic. No nightmares last night, for a change. At least none that I could remember. And the way Mags had woken me early...well, that had been by far the best early wake up I’d ever experienced.
Rolling over, I stroked a hand over the empty space in the bed beside me. The sheets were cold, so Mags must have gotten up a while ago. I sat up and stretched, looking around. She wasn’t in the bedroom.
Where was she? In the bathroom or the kitchen, perhaps? I couldn’t hear any sounds.
Catching the urgency of my own thoughts, I smiled at myself. Though I’d been awake only minutes, already I missed Mags. I wanted more of her. A whole lot more.
Getting up, I pulled on pants and a shirt, and padded barefoot out to the kitchen. She wasn’t there, or in the bathroom. She wasn’t anywhere in the house, and neither was Zeppelin.
She must have taken Zeppelin for his early morning walk. Maybe I should make breakfast in the meantime and see if I could convince her to slip back into bed afterward. She’d want coffee first though, at least.
Cracking the back door open, I stuck my head into the crisp morning air to see if I could spot her or Zeppelin near the barn, or at the edge of the woods.
There was no sign of them.
Disquiet stirred in my gut.
Gemma wasn’t up yet, but it wasn’t exactly early. Zeppelin usually wanted to go out a lot earlier than this. She should have been back by now, and surely would have woken me before leaving.
What if Spike had found her? An image flashed through my head of rough hands grabbing her while she was outside and dragging her away.
I pulled on some shoes, then went out the back door, scanning my surroundings and debating whether to go into the woods first, or circle the house. Better to check around the house, I decided, heading down the side.
At the driveway, I stopped.
Mags’s pickup was gone.
But why would she leave without waking me, or at least leaving a note?
My stomach churned, unease deepening into worry. With flames painted over it, the truck was distinctive. If Spike knew she was driving it, and had spotted it parked here...
Instead of letting my anxious thoughts get stuck down that path, I went back to the house for my keys, scribbled a quick note promising Gemma I’d be back soon, then jumped in my truck and floored it, heading to Mags’s place as fast as the ancient pickup would take me.
When I rounded the corner and her house came into view, some of the tightness in my chest eased. Her pickup was parked out front. I pulled in behind it, rushed to her door and knocked loudly, calling her name.
She opened the door, and my muscles sagged.
“I thought something had happened,” I said in a rush of relief. “Are you okay?”
Zeppelin came bouncing past her, out of the house. With a joyful bark, he jumped on my legs before racing back inside.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she said, not moving from inside the doorway.
Despite her assurance, she didn’t look or sound fine. The woman who’d fallen asleep wrapped in my arms was now frowning at me, her expression troubled. She didn’t invite me in, but just stared at me as though searching for something in my face.
“What is it?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
She blew out a breath, running a hand over her hair as though she needed a moment to think. She’d changed into jeans and a long-sleeved top, and though she looked as lovely as ever, I couldn’t focus on anything but the wariness in her eyes.
“It’s not Spike?” I asked. “You didn’t see him?” As I peered behind her, my chest tightened at the thought he could be hiding back there in the shadows.
But no, I couldn’t detect any fear in her expression. If anything, she seemed upset with me. Something had given her that stiff posture and distant tone, and if it wasn’t Spike, it had to be something I’d done.
Did she regret making love with me?
The idea was a knife in my heart. It hit me with such sharp, intense pain, I almost staggered.
“It’s not Spike,” she said, deepening my fear. Then she straightened, pulling her shoulders back and breathing in as though to brace herself against an invisible enemy. “Why is your father’s secret shed full of drugs?”
Her question was sharp, and so unexpected that at first the words didn’t seem to make sense.
“What?” I asked.
“Drugs,” she repeated. “Bags and bags of weed.”
“In my father’s shed?”
“You didn’t know?” She crossed her arms, her eyes narrow.
Her suspicious expression hit me just as hard as the idea she might regret what we’d done. I’d seen that look of mistrust all too often, but never on the face of anyone I cared for so much.
I was used to folks thinking the worst of me. But not Mags. Not after everything that had happened between us. I’d thought I could trust her not to treat me as though I was nothing more than a Baxter, no better than my daddy or brothers.
Though I was swallowing razor blades, I kept my gaze level, locked to her eyes. “I haven’t looked inside the shed since I’ve been back in Green Valley.”
I didn’t expect her to believe me, and sure enough her expression stayed wary. “You’ve been here over a year,” she said.
“What would I need in the shed? If my daddy still has his harvest stored in there, well that didn’t occur to me.” It was my turn to fold my arms across my chest. All I could do was tell the truth and try to shield my heart from the accusation in her stare. I couldn’t make her believe me.
“You never looked?” Her tone was still blunt, but her expression softened.
“It was overgrown. Vines over the door.” I clenched my jaw. “Well, you saw it.”
Surely it was obvious nobody had opened that shed for longer than the time I’d been back. It hurt that she still doubted me. And that maybe the feelings I’d been having for her were more one-sided than I’d wanted to believe.
“I wasn’t sure how fast those vines grow,” she said.
“When I first moved into the house, some of my daddy’s old buyers turned up, asking questions. As far as I know, nobody but my daddy knew about that shed. I told his buyers the barn had been ransacked before I arrived, when I’d pulled out his crop and burned it myself.”
“And they believed you?” She uncrossed her arms, dropping her hands by her sides. Her frown had faded, and the suspicion was easing from her tone. But my throat was still tight, and my chest still felt like she’d landed a heavy blow.
“They seemed to. It helped that there’s been all kinds of disruption inside the local motorcycle gang. The head of the gang was arrested, and they’re more disjointed than they used to be.” I lifted a shoulder. “Anyway, nobody’s bothered me for months.”
“I want to trust you.” A raw edge bled into her tone. Her eyes creased as though she was hurting as much as I was, and she stretched out a hand as though she wanted to touch me but couldn’t quite bridge the gap. “Eric made me doubt my own judgement. I hate feeling like I don’t know what’s true.”
My heart twisted, and all I wanted to do was take her in my arms.
“I can prove it.” Dropping my hands to my sides, I squeezed them into fists. “I’ll go and tell Sheriff James about the drugs right now. I bet they’re covered in a layer of dust. He’ll see they can’t have been touched since before my daddy died. He’s a good man, and you can trust him.”
“You’d do that?” She stepped into me, putting her arms around my waist. I didn’t resist as she pulled our bodies together, mashing her face into my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “After everything, I just had to be sure.”
I tightened my arms around her, hugging her closer. Then I smoothed her hair and kissed the top of her head. “I get it,” I said. And I did. However badly it had hurt to see her mistrust me, I could tell those feelings had also pained her.
Putting my fingers under her chin, I lifted her face, meaning to kiss her. But when I caught sight of her eyes and saw the unshed tears glistening there, my heart cracked into pieces.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “We’re okay.”
She swallowed, nodding, and I kissed her lips gently, reassuring her with soft touches. She felt so good pressed against me, the last traces of pain vanished, replaced with relief. Mags would be okay. She was in my arms, and Spike hadn’t hurt her. Those were the only things that really mattered.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, giving me a little smile. I was glad to see tears were no longer threatening.
I dropped my forehead to hers. “Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. We’ll go to Sheriff James together. I’ll tell him about the drugs, and you can tell him about Spike.”
“Thank you.” She sighed, closing her eyes. “Funny that we need to talk to the sheriff about a drug dealer and a pile of drugs.”
Her eyes flicked open, and she pulled back to look at me, her eyes widening. “Wait. I have an idea.” She clutched my arms. “We have two problems, but they might cancel each other out. I mean, what if one problem could be the solution for the other?”
I raised questioning eyebrows, then all at once, I could tell what she was thinking. A drug dealer and a pile of drugs...putting them together, a possible solution did seem obvious. We had to be considering the same thing.
But that didn’t mean resolving both problems would be easy. Or that it wouldn’t be dangerous.