by Leslie North
The first was the soft, pale pink that would cover three walls, while the second shade was an exact match to Rachel’s hair-dye and would encompass one wall where the crib would go. He saw the whole nursery in his mind vividly. Having Rachel’s color accenting the room felt right. Like a piece of Rachel’s imaginative gift in her gender reveal lived on in the space.
“Ohhh.” The exclamation behind him shattered the silence.
He lifted the roller off the wall and found Rachel’s attention riveted on the pink. “Surprise.”
“It’s so pretty.” Light radiated from her eyes which were brimming with moisture. “I love it. How in the world did you manage to buy paint already?”
“Trade secret.” He winked, relief making him giddy. A part of him had worried she’d hate it or blast him for being left out of the decision-making process.
“Man of mystery,” she murmured. “I like it.” Her eyes strayed to the partially painted wall. “Thank you, Harris. I mean it. For so much. Just…thank you.” A look passed over her face that had his heart thumping loudly. With every bit of his being he wanted to label her expression as love, but he couldn’t let himself hope. Just because he was falling fast didn’t mean she was too.
“But this is not all.” He carefully set the roller down so the microfiber head didn’t fall into the deep well of the paint tray. “You’re never going to believe what I found.” Nerves lined his palms with sweat, and he had to wipe his hands on his pink speckled gym shorts. Unearthing his laptop from its hiding place in the closet, he strode to stand beside her.
Her focus latched onto the computer, but he kept the monitor angled so she couldn’t see anything yet.
“Last night I was reading through sites on the internet—”
“Good Lord.” She whipped her gaze up to him. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Sleep’s overrated.” He shrugged, the adrenaline and extra strong coffee were fueling him just fine. “As I was saying.” He pointedly cleared his throat and lifted an eyebrow.
She motioned for him to continue.
“Thank you.” Gripping the monitor, he plunged ahead. “We have not been on the same page about the nursery’s theme.” Understatement alert, but the agitated sex after the spats was fantastic, so he called it a draw. “You want murals or something of a wildflower garden in bloom, and I want mischievous fairies as you so ineloquently hurled at me.”
Red tinged her cheeks but she remained silent.
“We can both have what we want.” He widened the laptop angle and held it between them. On the screen, a full line of products including wallpaper, murals, decals, borders, and accent pieces showed a colorful garden scene. All different types of flowers bloomed with fairies in all sizes, shapes, and colors sporting a variety of wing styles played among them. Some flew while others lay on flowers or hid behind stems.
“And the best part—” he continued, anxiety reaching a new height. Why hadn’t she said anything yet? “—is it matches the wall colors. Look.” He jogged to the paint cans and hovered the laptop over the lids showing smears of paint.
She knelt and brushed one of the gallon cans. “Is this…” She grabbed a hank of her hair. “You matched it?” Her gaze lifted to his with her pupils widening. “Why?” she breathed, not in anger but in what sounded like it might be disbelief or awe. He wasn’t sure yet.
“Um.” He shifted. What would not have him in trouble? Did she hate it? Love it? Think it was stupid? He wished he could figure out her reactions. When he thought she’d like something, she didn’t, and vice versa. Man up and find out. “You floored me yesterday with the creative way you revealed our baby’s gender.” He stroked a finger over her straight locks resting on her detailed ink. “I wanted to keep a piece of that memory alive in this room.” He shrugged, feeling stupid now that he voiced it out loud.
Tears tracked down her cheeks and she launched herself at him.
He whipped the laptop away just in time to keep it from hurting her but had no chance to brace himself. Wham. The back of his head slapped against the canvas tarps spread to protect the hardwood floors and the air left his lungs as she fell on top of him. Sprawling, he grunt-laughed. “I take it I did a good thing?”
“Hell yeah.” She sniffed loudly and peppered his face with kisses, then braced herself above him, beaming. “You’re incredible.” Tears hit him in the cheeks and ears. “I can’t believe you found the perfect compromise too. I want everything.” She jabbed toward the laptop lying a few feet away. “Maybe not the wallpaper, but everything else. It’s perfect!”
The vise constricting his chest snapped away and he exhaled theatrically. “Oh, thank God—”
The office phone rang, and she scrambled to her feet with all the grace of a baby giraffe, then disappeared to answer the cordless landline charging on the base.
He lay on the floor another moment, savoring doing something right.
“Back to work,” he murmured. Her reaction fueled him more than ten cups of coffee. Adding fresh paint to the brush, he resumed his even strokes on the drywall. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he peered out the front window. An aging Honda Accord slowed on the road, then turned into the driveway.
Son of a bitch.
Rachel’s voice drifted to him from down the hall. She was still on the phone, answering questions for a potential new booking. Good. He jogged down the stairs and waited for Tammy Winchester outside. He would usher this woman off the property to keep Rachel from getting upset.
Crossing his arms, he blocked Rachel’s mother from even seeing the front door, let alone accessing it.
Hair in a lopsided ponytail, Tammy wrung her hands together as she trudged up the walkway, then froze when she finally noticed him standing there.
“Oh.” She lifted a shaky hand and swiped her face that had no makeup. The disheveled, sloppy appearance was a far cry from the woman who had shown up in too tight clothes with a treasure map in her hands.
“The police are looking for you,” he stated coldly.
“I know.” She nodded as if that would drive home her answer. “I talked to them this morning.” Tremors shook her and she slowly climbed the three steps. “I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?” He wasn’t sure why he bothered asking. No matter what she said, he’d have a hard time believing a word out of her mouth.
Tears spilled over the rims of her eyes and her hands wrung faster. “I didn’t know Darryl was physically attacking Rachel.”
“Bullshit.” His spine rammed straight.
“I swear!” Tammy cried. “It wasn’t until the police questioned me this morning that I found out.” She swallowed hard, lifting eyes eerily similar to Rachel’s but without the warmth or love. “Did he really poison her coffee? Did her brakes really fail?” Another swallow. “He shot at her?” she whispered.
“As if you weren’t a part of those attempts,” he sneered, clenching his fists to keep from strangling this woman.
“I wasn’t.” She continued shaking her head. “I didn’t realize Darryl would use our conversation about the treasure against Rachel like this.” Her trembling hand covered her mouth, then dropped. “I just wanted the money and had thought the plan would end with Darryl and I forcing the B&B to close so Rachel would have to sell.”
Jesus Christ. This woman had no shame.
Tammy met his gaze again. “Once Darryl and I owned the property, we could search for the treasure as long as we needed. I wanted the treasure, not my daughter dead.”
“Don’t you realize this place is Rachel’s life?” Harris snarled, his palms screaming from his nails digging in. “Taking it from her would kill her.”
“No, it wouldn’t.” Her wounded eyes hardened a notch. “Rachel is a survivor in a way I’ve never been.”
“You’ve got that right,” Rachel barked from behind Harris.
He twisted just enough to keep Tammy in sight and claimed Rachel’s hand as she moved to stand beside him.
�
��You’re a self-absorbed leech,” Rachel continued, her hand tightening in his, and he did his best to feed her strength. “You may have inherited half this property, but that doesn’t give you the right to destroy my business.”
“Rachel loves it here,” Harris added. “And she’s an incredibly smart proprietress. The place has flourished in her clever hands, and her guests are constantly giving her rave reviews.”
Rachel shot him a grateful smile.
“Just stating the truth.” He pecked her lips.
Rachel turned back to Tammy and rubbed her stomach. “And this house is going to be a wonderful place to raise our child.”
Tammy stumbled back into the left post, her skin paling. “Child? So you really are pregnant?”
Harris allowed the ice inside to freeze his gaze. “It’s not just her life you and Darryl have been endangering,” he uttered in a low, lethal tone, “but our child’s, too.”
“Sweet baby Jesus,” Tammy croaked, stricken.
“So if you want to live another day.” Harris leaned forward. “You’d better start talking. When it comes to Rachel and my baby, there is no line I won’t cross to keep them safe.”
“Rachel.” Tammy stretched her hand but Rachel didn’t take it. “I swear, I didn’t know Darryl was trying to kill you. You know I abhor weapons. I would have stepped in if I had known.”
“Triggering my allergy and cutting my brakes don’t involve weapons,” Rachel retorted, lifting her chin.
A strangled cry fell from Tammy and she clutched her mouth. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t know what he was going to do.”
“What do you know?” Harris pressed. “What did you and Darryl plan?”
“He’s changed the plan,” Tammy retorted, her hands beginning to wring again. “Initially he was going to ransack the house the instant you both were gone, but as of last night, he’s now looking for any opportunity.” She took a shaky breath. “After the police left me this morning, I went to the trailer he rented, but his stuff is gone.”
Tammy thrust her shoulders back. “You may not want to believe me, Rachel, but I’m still your mother. I’m going to protect my child too.” Her eyes locked on Harris. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that.” Harris pumped Rachel’s hand. Finally, a light was shining in the dark. It was almost over. With Tammy’s information, he could set a trap, and stop Darryl once and for all. Kissing Rachel’s cheek, he murmured, “You and the baby will safe soon. I promise.”
Rachel tried to match Harris’s optimism but the vise choking her heart made it hard to breathe. Not once in the conversation had Harris mentioned staying in this safe cocoon with her. Nothing about him helping her run the B&B, nothing about a future at all. Everything sounded like he wanted to ensure she was safe before he left.
He has one foot out the door, and the other lifting to leave me behind.
14
“Please be safe,” Harris begged into Rachel’s hair. “Keep your eyes peeled.” He pulled back and bore his gaze into hers. “Be vigilant—”
“Harris.” Rachel clamped a hand over his mouth. “I won’t do anything foolish. I’ll spend the afternoon in the mall.” A grimace pulled at her expression, but she tried to hide it by kissing his cheek. “It’ll be a ton of fun shopping for maternity clothes. Yay, wide elastic waistbands and tent-sized shirts!” The fist waves were not convincing.
If Darryl was looking for an opportunity, Harris wanted to give him one. He figured the asshole would be more likely to break into the house when just one of them was home, hence the shopping trip. Darryl would probably be more likely to strike if Harris left, but no way in hell could he allow Rachel to be bait. This bastard had already proven he’d kill for a treasure that didn’t seem to exist, and Harris had all the training in the world to take on the risk.
“If you find anything with fairies—”
Rachel whapped his shoulder, but the light in her eyes remained dull. “I’ll be sure to buy it in your size.”
“As long as you bring me heels to match.” He cupped her cheek. “This will be over soon.” The empty promise tasted like ash on his tongue. He could only hope they caught Darryl before the bastard hurt Rachel.
“It’s not me you need to worry about.” Her eyebrows slammed down and her jaw jut out. “You’re setting yourself as a sacrificial lamb. I don’t care how much training you’ve had, a bullet could kill you too.”
Since dinner yesterday evening, they had fought about how to draw Darryl out. Rachel had been insistent she stay at the house, but Harris refused to budge. The argument ran so hot, they now had to add dishes to the list of items to replace (it was mostly Rachel’s doing, but he may have flung a few himself). Then, this morning, Rachel had rolled over and kissed him, ending the cold shoulder he had endured all night.
Glancing at the clock, Harris kissed her with a hell of a lot of tongue. “The mall should be open by now.” Sunday hours were abbreviated, but that worked perfectly for the plan. He didn’t want her gone all day. Just long enough to give Darryl a chance to strike.
After watching her taillights disappear, he hustled to the nursery. The overwhelming smell of fresh paint assaulted him and he puffed his chest at the results. Light pink coated three walls, while the one wall radiated Rachel’s hair color, and the trim and door had received a new layer of white. It had turned out even better than he’d imagined.
Pulling off all the remaining painter’s tape now that everything had dried, he moved into the living room and pushed the couch against the wall. In the cleared space, he muscled the two oversized shipping boxes he had stuffed into the corner before he painted the nursery. Prying them open, he inspected the contents.
Perfect. He inhaled, a sense of excitement swirled in with the anxiousness of waiting for Darryl to take the bait. Rachel was going to be so surprised. She had picked out a crib, but he had gone behind her back and changed the order to the one now sitting on the floor. Before they had their multi-round fights about the theme of the room, he had imagined their baby growing up in a crib that had flowers as close to Rachel’s tattoo as he could find. And he found one. It was expensive as hell, but worth it to see blooming roses, tulips, and other flowers he couldn’t identify, etched into the white-painted wood.
Unearthing the assembly instructions and a bag of parts that intimidated the shit out of him, he got to work. He did the actual construction in the nursery, but kept the waiting pieces in the living room. With every rail he attached and screw he tightened, the contentment inside him grew. He was putting together the bed where his baby daughter would sleep. Holy shit, was that awesome and scary. He made sure he double-checked everything he did before he moved on.
Twist. Twist. Twist. He lifted the screwdriver and stepped back. Clamping a trembling hand over his mouth, he could only stare. The knobs topping the posts were different flowers, rounded enough to be safe, and the rest of the garden etched into the wood twinkled in the sunlight.
Wow. He fingered a flower. Baby Girl, I hope you sleep tight inside. He couldn’t breathe for a moment, the image of his daughter curled on her stomach asleep gripped him hard.
Moving the crib into place, his chest tightened, and he blinked back the sheen of moisture filming his eyes. The crib sitting in front of Rachel’s hair-dye color was perfect.
Whirling, he hustled to clean up the mess, running all the packaging to the carriage house so she wouldn’t see it. He’d tear it down and recycle it later. After he revealed the surprise.
Sliding the living room couch and rug that had gone cockeyed back into place, he scanned the room with a critical eye. Looked good. Moving to the nursery, he picked up the plain white socket covers he had removed to paint the walls and reattached them. The walk-in closet had a light switch that sat just outside to the right of the trim. He debated holding off on putting the old, plain white cover back on. He was positive Rachel would want the cover available on the website that matched the fairy garden the
me. Shrugging, he settled it in place. It wasn’t hard to change out. Screwing the fastener in tight—
He snapped his head toward the door. His palm slipped, pushing in the light switch lever. Had he heard something downstairs?
Clink. The newest sound jerked his head to the closet floor. A floorboard against the wall snapped up and hovered a quarter-inch above the rest of the flooring. What the hell? He cautiously walked inside and crouched. Using a finger, he gently pushed the board up and it creaked as it lifted, the back end anchoring as if on a hidden hinge. The light inside the closet wasn’t the best, but he was too impatient and curious to get up and turn the overhead bulb on. Squinting, he spied something inside the hidey-hole.
He hadn’t felt this much excited adrenaline since his shovel thunked into the buried treasure chest. Reaching in, his fingers encountered something smooth and soft, wrapped in what felt like twine.
Pulling the stash out, he exhaled in wonder. “Look at you,” he whispered, pivoting on his crouched heel to find more light. A thick bundle of really old letters were folded and tied together. Holy shit. This had to be the treasure—
Footsteps scuffed on the hardwood floor beyond and a tiny whimper had him on his feet before he had thought about the action. The letters hit the floor, and he strode out of the nursery, then ground to a halt in the living room. He about lost his ever-loving mind before he clicked into marine mode.
“Harris,” Rachel whispered, her pupils overtaking her irises.
“Silence, bitch,” Darryl snapped, jabbing the black Smith & Wesson into her temple. “You should have taken my money. Now who’s laughing, Miss High and Mighty?”
Another whimper fell from Rachel and she locked terrified eyes onto Harris.
Harris needed to inch his T-shirt up to have clear access to the gun holstered against his spine once he had a shot.
“I want the treasure.” Darryl stood behind Rachel, like a motherfucking coward, using her as a shield. “I know you found it. Give it to me or she dies.”