by Shayla Black
Once upon a time, the knowledge would have bothered him. Now, he didn’t feel a damn thing. “Good for her.”
Dana laughed softly. “I’m just glad you’re not her husband and baby daddy.”
“Me, too.”
“So tell me about Maggie.”
“She’s a million things. If I tell you she was a pageant girl, you’ll get the wrong idea, but she was Miss Kendall County for three years. She grew up on a ranch in small-town Texas. Oh, Shealyn West is her sister.”
“The TV star? Holy shit! I love her. She seems so sweet. Have you met her? Talked to her?”
“I was at her wedding a week ago. I even danced with her. She is sweet.”
“Wow, so her sister must be, too.”
“In very different ways. I tried to fight my feelings for Maggie but . . . it didn’t work out too well.”
Unlike Whitney, Mags was the kind of girl willing to sacrifice herself to keep her loved ones safe and happy. His ex would have wished them the best, packed her bags, and driven away, then cried the loudest at their funeral.
“How long have you known her?”
Josiah sighed. “A week. And I know how it sounds—”
“Sketchy? It does. But you’re obviously serious if you’re calling me to talk about her.”
“Yeah. You think I never really loved Whit?”
“Honestly? No. Do you think you’re truly in love with Maggie?”
“Didn’t I just say that?”
“Let me put the question this way: The day Whitney dumped you, you didn’t try to talk to her. You just drove your truck like a bat out of hell to that skeevy bar by the highway and proceeded to get shitfaced and demand the manager play sad, someone-done-you-wrong songs. Then for the next month, you stopped speaking to all of your friends who’d known about your fiancée’s betrayal, which I get. But you also stopped speaking to the ones who hadn’t. That was your pride barking, little brother. You spent the next two weeks destroying a punching bag with your fists. Then you went back to work and volunteered for every crazy-ass, utterly dangerous assignment you could find. We all worried like hell about you.”
“I know.” That made him feel more than vaguely guilty. “I’m sorry.”
“So the question I have is, if Maggie left you tomorrow, what would be the most likely reason and what would you do about it?”
And that was why he’d called Dana. She always knew how to cut through the bullshit and get to what was real. Josiah wished he’d been in the frame of mind to listen before he’d proposed to Whitney.
“At this point, I think she’d only leave me for two reasons: One, if I left her first. If you know anything about Shealyn, you know their mom was a drug addict who abandoned them as kids.”
“I’d heard that. It’s really true?”
“Yeah. Or two, Maggie would leave if I scared her. She has trouble believing that people will love her enough to truly be there for her. And if for some reason she actually walked out on me . . .” It didn’t take Josiah long to come to a conclusion. “I’d wait for her. I’d coax her. I’d be patient. I’d tell her every day I love her until she believed it.”
Dana gave him a little sniffle. “That’s a beautiful answer.”
“If you repeat it to your husband or any of my other brothers-in-law, I’ll deny saying it.”
She laughed. “All right, macho man. We’ll keep it between us, but . . . yeah. You sound like you’re in love. I can’t wait to meet her. Mom will squeal in delight when you bring a new girlfriend home.”
Josiah had something more serious in mind, and if he could pull it off, his mom—hell, his whole family—might get the chance to fall in love with her, too.
CHAPTER 14
The following Monday dawned with the roll of thunder and the drizzle of gray rain so close to freezing, Maggie wondered if she’d ever get warm. She bundled up in her warmest sweatpants and fuzzy slippers, along with a tank, a long-sleeved tee, and a hoodie, but she still shivered.
On the other hand, she wasn’t convinced the chill caused all her trembling. Fear surged through her veins.
Since their discussion Thursday night, Josiah had been quiet, almost contemplative. Oh, he still held her close, touched her often to let her know that she was cared for and safe. But sometimes his mind drifted elsewhere. She’d pressed him, but he’d simply given her a too-charming smile and assured her all was well.
Maggie wasn’t buying it.
Yesterday, she’d called her grandparents. They hadn’t been able to talk long, since they’d reluctantly decided to spend the day at Disneyland. Granna had promised to call later that evening. Maggie was antsy. Even odder, Josiah had insisted that he talk to her papa as soon as possible. He wouldn’t say why. She wondered what that meant and was frustrated at suddenly being left out again. Yes, probably for her “own good” or whatever, but what plans did he have that he wanted to hide from her?
“A vehicle I don’t recognize is coming up the drive,” Zyron shouted as he slammed his way into the house from the side yard.
Maggie frowned. She wasn’t expecting visitors. Maybe Dixie was dropping in since Maggie had left her a couple of messages? Or the deputy had decided to divulge some helpful information?
But when she darted to the family room and glanced out the front window, she didn’t recognize the flashy red vehicle bouncing up the old dirt road. It was small, sporty, and too light for this terrain—not practical for conditions in a Texas ranching community.
“Shit,” Josiah murmured behind her.
She frowned. “What? I have no idea who that is.”
“I can’t tell you who’s driving, but I’m almost positive I saw that car last time I was at Enlightenment Fields.”
Maggie’s heart sank to her stomach. Were they coming back to put the screws to her family again? Had they devised some new way to try to force her to sell?
“Your truck is out front.” Trees grimaced in Josiah’s direction.
It was. Damn it.
When she turned to glance at Josiah, he was compartmentalizing his panic and doing his best to problem-solve. Funny how she’d already learned to read some of his expressions so quickly. Yet sometimes he was still a mystery . . .
“Maybe you should drive away and make up some bullshit excuse about why you stopped by to ‘visit’ the Wests?” Trees suggested.
“Or stay and hide and hope like hell they don’t realize that’s your truck?” Zyron added.
Josiah swore under his breath. “Both options suck. This could get dangerous fast.”
“We’ll be here,” Trees assured.
Zyron withdrew his weapon and checked the magazine before shoving it back into his concealed holster. “And we’ll be ready.”
“I know. But I only have one choice. I can’t leave Maggie.”
She marched into her papa’s study and came back out with his big-ass shotgun from the gun safe. “I’ll be fine. I’m no damsel in distress.”
Josiah shook his head. “I’ll examine later why the sight of you all badass and weaponed up turns me on. But if there’s potential trouble, I’m not going anywhere, Maggie.”
Uncharacteristically, Trees swore.
“What’s the plan?” Zyron demanded. “They’re parking now. We have less than a minute to decide.”
“Fuck.” Josiah raked a hand through his shorn dark hair. “Okay. I’ll step around the corner and listen in. They won’t see me in the kitchen. You two are visiting or looking for jobs or . . . fill in the blank. Maggie, if they ask, your grandparents are out for the day. Be noncommittal. Put that shotgun somewhere within reach but not in plain sight. That’s the best we can do.”
Maggie nodded. Zyron and Trees obviously didn’t like it but didn’t argue.
As Josiah made himself scarce, Trees whistled long and low. “Wow, who’s the gorgeous brunet
te?”
Afraid she already knew the answer, Maggie glanced out the front window and looked at the driver. “Mercy.”
The woman who had asked Josiah to join his life with hers at Enlightenment Farms and create more lives together. Maggie was hard-pressed not to claw this chick’s eyes out.
“Shit.” Josiah cursed from the kitchen. “Who’s she with?”
“I don’t know. Some tall, lumbering guy and an average-sized man with a mean face.”
“The big one is probably Newt. He’s devoted to Mercy from what I hear. He’ll do anything for her. Watch out.”
The sound of car doors slamming, muted only by the walls, told them their time was up. Maggie propped the shotgun up behind the sofa and gripped her phone, just in case. She knew damn well that if she called 911, it might take twenty minutes or more before law enforcement made an appearance . . . but maybe Mercy didn’t know that.
In front of her, Trees sat with seeming casualness on the left side of the sofa, but she felt his tension. Zyron seemingly swallowed down his pinging energy and took the recliner on her right. It might not be obvious at a glance, but they were flanking her, and she appreciated it.
Maggie counted down the seconds until she heard a light but insistent knock. Zyron rose, but she stopped him with a shake of her head. “I have to do this. They’ll be suspicious if I don’t.”
He gritted his teeth but nodded, seeing her point.
As he seated himself once more, she unlocked the door. Her hands shook as she turned the knob. As soon as she opened up, the trio filled her line of vision—a beauty and two brutes who looked quite capable of violence. “Hi. Mercy, right? Can I help you?”
“I’m Mercy, yes. Hello, Maggie. We popped by for a neighborly visit and to ask you a question. It will only take a few minutes of your time.”
She would have loved to tell them they weren’t welcome and slam the door in their face. If she did, Maggie feared that would make them openly hostile much faster. If she played this cat-and-mouse game, found some way to placate them, it would buy some time to consider other options.
“Come in.”
“Thank you.” Mercy smiled as she stepped over the threshold. The two men followed, eyeing Zyron and Trees.
Maggie suspected the giant and the thug were carrying guns under their winter coats.
With that thought, she wandered back behind the sofa with the shotgun resting an inch from her fingers. “What can I do for you?”
“This is Newt.” Mercy gestured to the big bearded guy with the flat expression—unless his gaze fell on Mercy. Then he lit up as if she were his world. “And this is Randy. They’re both members of my extended family at Enlightenment Fields. And your friends?”
“Trees. And Zyron.” She pointed to each. “They’re friends of friends, staying over for a few days while they’re on a road trip.” The lie rolled off her tongue.
Mercy smiled as if she either didn’t care or didn’t believe Maggie. “We came by, hoping to speak to your grandparents. Would that be possible?”
“I’m afraid not,” she said with a shake of her head. “They’re down the road a spell right now. If you need something, I can relay the information.”
“Our offer to purchase the ranch still stands. We’re dedicated to expanding, and are eager to incorporate your grandparents’ property with the land we’ve already acquired.”
“They’re aware, and the offer was generous. They simply aren’t interested in selling. I’m the sixth generation to live on this land. I intend to keep it that way and to raise my kids here, spoil my grandkids here someday, too. So I’m afraid—”
“I appreciate your family’s traditions and sentiment, but I don’t think you understand,” Mercy cut in. “We’re willing to go to most any length for this property. We’ve been patient, but I’m afraid our family is growing too rapidly to wait much longer. We’re producing valuable crops and we need more land to harvest. You’re a young woman—and with a famous sister. Why not move out west and experience some of that glitz and glamour yourself? A beautiful woman like you could get discovered and have the kind of future most women only dream of.”
What a manipulative piece of crap. Sadly, Maggie bet people fell for that stuff all the time. “Are you interested in leaving your land and your family, Mercy?”
“Well . . . no. I’ve only lived here a bit less than two years. But I’ve traveled all over the country. You’ve been in Comfort your whole life. Certainly, you want to see more, get out and truly live?”
“I think life is what you want to make it. All the people and scenery I love are here.”
Mercy’s smile tightened. “Think of your grandparents. They’re getting on in years. Can they continue to keep up with a spread of this size with just you, a foreman, and a few hands? Your grandfather still oversees the breeding and the branding and other very physical activities. He can’t do that forever. I mean, you never know when something tragic could happen. Look at Mrs. McIntyre. Out walking her dog, and then . . . just gone.”
That filled Maggie with bubbling fury. “She was murdered. So was Mr. Haney. Surely you’re not suggesting that you and your ‘family’ would resort to violence to have my land?”
Mercy’s laugh was totally fake. “Goodness, no. I’m simply stating a fact. Most of the folks in Comfort, including your grandparents, aren’t young anymore. The majority of the next generation has already moved away for more education and opportunity, a brighter future. No one would blame you for doing the same. As you know, we’re prepared to be financially generous. But we need your answer in the next ten days.”
“We’ve already given one. Thank you, but no.”
Somehow, Mercy’s smile managed to look even tighter. “I meant a different answer. We’ll need that in ten days.”
“You could wait ten decades and we wouldn’t change our minds. This is our land. You can’t force us off it.”
The slender brunette cleared her throat. “I’d like you to consider all the good we do for this county—”
“As do the Wests. We have been integral members of this community since 1868.”
The pretty brunette huffed. “I suggest you reconsider. Or I fear you’ll very much regret your decision.”
Because Enlightenment Fields would kill them? That seemed to be the intimation. “Are you threatening me?”
“I would never threaten.” She did her best to sound completely shocked.
Maggie was calling bullshit. They might not mention violence, but they certainly had no problem carrying it out. “Well, that’s good to hear. It wouldn’t be very neighborly of you. The Wests have had friends here for decades. The town wouldn’t cotton to that.”
“I’m simply pointing out that your grandparents should be allowed to slow down in their twilight years and retire someplace with less upkeep. And you might flourish somewhere you can spread your wings and fly. And since Enlightenment Fields is expanding, we could help one another.”
“I’ve heard your spiel. The answer is the same. No.”
Mercy’s entire body tensed. “I insist you reconsider. It would be best for everyone.”
Suddenly, Trees stood and sent the woman a narrow-eyed glare Maggie would not have thought possible from the quiet loner. “She gave you her answer. I think it’s best if you go.”
Newt apparently didn’t like the menace in Trees’s expression. He stepped protectively in front of Mercy, nearly eclipsing her, and growled. “Back off.”
Zyron rose to his feet, flanking the cultists. “Things are getting heated. It’s time for you to leave.”
Mercy pressed her lips into a flat line. “Don’t forget what I said.”
Maggie refused to acknowledge her veiled threat.
With a little huff, the woman turned away in her vastly impractical dress and flounced out the door. The two goons followed her. Randy was
last to leave, swiveling and seemingly adjusting his coat, revealing the semiautomatic on his hip.
Fear struck. Yes, she had a shotgun. But would she really be able to use it on a human being? She’d always imagined if she was in a case of shoot-or-be-shot that she could. But she’d rather not find out the hard way.
Beside her, Zyron wasn’t playing at all. He pulled his firearm from somewhere behind him and let it dangle beside his thigh. “You and the Wests should simply agree to disagree. It would be best if you understood that you’re no longer welcome here.”
As she headed to the red convertible, Mercy stiffened. Then she tilted her head and studied Josiah’s vehicle with a long, lingering stare. Maggie’s heart stopped.
“That truck belongs to Josiah Grant. You know him?” The consternation on her face appeared instantly, her expression as mercurial as a spoiled child’s. “Is he here?”
Thank goodness Enlightenment Fields paid the locals very little mind or Mercy would already know that Josiah had been here for days. And she might guess that Maggie knew him in the biblical sense.
While Maggie would love to toss that information in Mercy’s face, she didn’t dare. “He and I—”
“Have all been trying to get his truck fixed,” Trees cut in. “We all have. It broke down nearly a week ago, and the Wests happened on him along the side of the road and towed the damn thing here. As soon as some parts come in, his ride will be good as new.”
“I see.” Her frown turned into a smug smile, as if that explained why she hadn’t seen or heard from Josiah in almost a week. “Well, tell him to come see me once his truck is running again. I’ve missed him.”
The woman’s breathy voice, coupled with an expression that made her look like a cat in heat, crawled on Maggie’s last nerve. She couldn’t bring herself to answer.
“We’ll be sure to tell him,” Trees promised.
“Thank you.” Mercy suddenly looked like the picture of civility again . . . until her gaze fell on Maggie. “In case you’re wondering or you have any designs, he’s mine. If you touch him, we’re going to have a problem.”