Chapter 11
RYAN
Ifelt like I’d been dropped into a murder mystery, but honestly, it’d made this situation a whole lot more interesting. Maggie and I had spent hours last night up in that attic, trying to solve the mystery of the wrong bride.
She swore up and down that it wasn’t just a younger version of her grandmother, but that the groom definitely had been her grandfather. It seemed like old Mr. Pembroke had lived quite a life that no one seemed to know anything about.
At least, not to Maggie’s knowledge. I’d pointed out that if she’d been on speaking terms with her family, she could’ve just called and asked, but nope. That hadn’t worked either.
It was morning now, but I hadn’t slept a wink. Instead, I sat on the front porch with a cup of coffee while a random local man and his teenage son cut apart the tree blocking the gate.
They’d told us that the storm had been bad enough that half the town had lost power and now they were all helping to clear the debris that had been left behind.
It was pretty cool. My neighbors in New York sure as hell were never up early, checking on everyone who lived around them to help repair damage.
While I watched them work, already having determined that I would just be in the way if I tried to help, Maggie was in the sitting room, reading the letters I’d found in the attic last night.
She hadn’t slept either, curling up on the couch with those letters as soon as we’d come back down to eat and not moving since.
When the chainsaw finally stopped, I looked up again to see both the man and his son dragging the last section of the tree clear. The gate was finally open, which meant I was free.
Smiling as I drained the last sip of my coffee, I went to shake their hands and say thank you. Then I headed back inside. Maggie was still curled in one corner of the sofa, surrounded by old letters that she still didn’t seem to have made any sense of.
“The tree is gone,” I said as I walked in. “We can leave now.”
Unsurprisingly, she shook her head, not even looking up as she turned to the next page of the letter she’d been reading. “Okay, so my grandpa was definitely married before he married my grandmother.”
“Big deal,” I said, striding past her to grab my damp jacket from the back of the chair. “I know divorce wasn’t as much of a regular thing back then, but it still happened.”
She finally looked up, her brow furrowed. “No, Ryan. I think there’s more to it than that. There’s something else to this.”
“Maybe she died.”
“Then why didn’t I know about her?” she asked. “Why would he keep it a secret that he was a widower before he met my gran?”
“I don’t know, Maggie.” I swiped a hand across my face. “You can figure it out from New York. Let’s go.”
She scoffed. “I’m still not going anywhere. Neither the storm nor these letters changed that.”
I sighed. “Look, I’m not going to kidnap you, but I’m not going to grovel again either.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
Hanging my jacket over my arm, I checked that my car keys were in my pocket this time and I strode toward the door. “I’m going to be in town another day just in case you change your mind, but after that, I’m gone.”
“Cool, but I’m not going to change my mind, Ryan.”
“Then I won’t be seeing you soon,” I said, pausing for another moment in the doorway. “Good luck, Maggie. I mean it.”
I waited for her to nod before I left with absolutely no idea why I’d said I’d hang around town in the first place. Maggie was channeling all her energy into those old pictures and letters. She wouldn’t come looking for me.
And as interesting as I found the situation, it was pretty clear that she was distracting herself from her own life by trying to figure out her grandfather’s past. Until she managed to piece it together, it was even less likely that she’d leave Massachusetts, which meant that my work here was well and truly done.
I’d given it my best shot and I’d failed. By all rights, I should’ve been headed back to New York right now, but instead, I stuck to my promise and rolled through the streets of Deerfield searching for a hotel with Wi-Fi and good cell reception.
Eventually, after a few false starts, I found a little boutique hotel in the center of town and got a room. The place was quaint as hell, decorated like it hadn’t seen a designer since the 1920s and smelling like sweet cookies and lemonade, and I decided there were worse places to sleep.
I trudged up the staircase to my room, sliding my phone out of my back pocket to call Marcus even as I dropped my bag on the floor.
After shutting the door behind me, I listened to the phone ring and ring, and I looked around, taking in the queen-sized bed taking up most of the floor space in the room and the antique dresser.
When I reached Marcus’s voicemail, I sighed and left a message, striding over to the window to find I had a view of a little square. Not bad. Not bad at all, actually.
Almost as soon as I lowered my phone away from my ear, it rang again and I perked up, figuring Marcus was finally calling me back, but nope. As if she’d sensed that things weren’t going according to plan, it was my mother.
“Hey,” I said, switching her to speaker as I kept moving around the room and finally sat down on the edge of the bed. “How are you, Mom? Are you back home yet?”
“Safe and sound, darling.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “Where are you?”
I chuckled. “Good try, but I can’t tell you that.”
“What can you tell me, then?” she asked nervously. “At least tell me you found her.”
“I found her, but I can’t get her to budge on this, Mom. Maggie is adamant about staying put and figuring everything out by herself.”
Mom let out a soft sigh. “Just keep trying, sweetheart. You’ll get through to her eventually. Just bring her home, baby. She needs to go home.”
“I know, but I’ve tried everything I can.” I lay back on the bed and stared up at the intricately pressed patterns on the ceiling. “I honestly don’t know what else I can do.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” she replied quietly. “Somehow, you always do.”
“Maybe, but this isn’t a family matter. Not our family, at least. There’s only so much I can do before the Pembrokes have to step up and I think we’ve reached that point.”
“Oh, honey. No. Don’t give up.”
I sighed and let my eyes drift shut, exhausted after sorting through random war keepsakes all night. Who even wants a keepsake of a war, for God’s sake? It’s not a fucking amusement park.
“It’s not about giving up,” I said. “Look, before this, I hadn’t even seen Maggie since she was a teenager.
We weren’t close friends even as kids. I don’t know everything there is to know about this arrangement between the families.
Honestly, I’m not sure how this is my problem, but I still tried.
She’s just not interested in listening to me. ”
“Sweetheart, you’re the only person she’ll talk to,” Mom said, her tone taking on that vague hint of pleading that always ended with me caving to her demands. “Please just keep trying?”
“I can’t, Mom. At some point, I have to get back to work and back to my life. This is that point. I’m heading back to New York tomorrow. I told Maggie I’d wait until then, but if she still doesn’t want to leave with me, then so be it.”
“No, Ryan. That’s just not good enough,” she said. “The Pembrokes are counting on you. She won’t talk to anyone else. She’s not taking anyone’s calls or returning their texts. She hasn’t even sent her mother an emoji when Adelaide asked if she was safe.”
It was news to me that they were all under the impression that she was actually talking to me.
I almost told my mother about Maggie locking me out of the house, but in the end, I refrained.
I didn’t want her conveying that message to the Pembrokes and potentially giving them even more ammunition against Maggie.
“Talking isn’t exactly what I’d call it.”
“What would you call it?”
“Well, she threatened to bite me again.”
“Again?” Mom chuckled. “That’s our Maggie.” She paused for a beat. “Please just try again?”
“I’ll stay another day,” I said. “After that, I can’t promise anything.”
“Alright, baby. I know you’ll find a way.”
After talking for another minute, she hung up and I sighed, still staring at the ceiling and wondering why the Pembrokes were putting this on me. It was ridiculous. I had a job, a life, and a career I’d spent years building. Not to mention plenty of drama in my own family.
The Pembrokes had turned their backs on us when things had gotten tough, but now here they were, apparently counting on me to fix this. No one had bothered to ask if I had time to babysit their little princess while she investigated the romantic history of her dead grandfather.
As I thought it over, I had the urge to reach out to Daniel and tell him to come get his wife, but then I imagined him arriving at the cottage and an image flickered across my mind of Maggie with that musket.
She’d looked damn cute, but I quickly dismissed that thought—and the plan to reach out to Daniel. She’d probably shoot either him, or me, or both of us. Either way, it would end in bloodshed if he went there. Maggie might really just resort to actual violence, so no.
For now, I’d keep my word and give her another day, and then, if I still hadn’t managed to convince her to come back, I’d wash my hands of this whole mess and she’d be the Pembrokes’ problem.
Even if it was slowly starting to feel like she really, actually was becoming mine.