by Grace Walton
“So has she, Hollister,” Maggie said softly.
“I don’t believe it,” he said. “And I don’t trust her. The very day I took you to that pub, she was still plotting to trick me into marriage. She as much told me so. And when that didn’t work, she tried to manipulate me into marrying her by using her father’s power and affluence. She’s a cheat and a liar. And she’s the most profligate woman I know. No, I don’t believe she’s changed. She’s just playing you. Does she still have Harlow Fleming trailing after her?”
“Harlow stayed in London.”
“Well,” he said picking up his fork. “That’s something, at least. But as far as Fiona goes, I don’t trust her.”
Maggie nodded. “I understand that. Trust has to be earned. I know once you get to know her again, you’ll see she’s a different person now.”
Hollister snorted. “You’re naïve if you believe that’s even possible.”
“I know it’s possible because I’ve changed too.”
He stared at her. Once again he noticed the forthright way she met his eyes. The kind but firm way she spoke. Even her posture was confident. Something had caused such a drastic transformation. He looked at her slender hands clasped around the sturdy mug in front of her. His eyes narrowed. There was a modest diamond engagement ring on her left hand.
“Who is he?” he rasped out. There was a dangerous quality to his rough voice.
“What?” Maggie was confused by the sudden turn in their conversation.
“Who’s the man who wants to marry you but can’t afford a decent ring?” he sneered.
Maggie looked down at her engagement ring. She balled up her fists. She took a deep breath and reminded herself he had most likely been through Hell in the last few months. That alone should merit some compassion. If it had been any other man, it would have. But this was Hollister. The one man she’d been in love with for years. And he’d disappeared from her life, again, one night six months ago. She’d heard nothing of him or from him since. It was a startling and sobering replay of his previous mysterious three year absence. After dealing with that heartbreak for a second time, she’d thought she was well and truly over him. So of course, she’d known there could never be anything between them.
His most recent rejection of her, along with what she’d learned of his life from Fee, had doomed any hope that lingered concerning him. Hadn’t it? Surely she had no reason to feel any guilt? She’d done nothing wrong. He’d been the one to walk away. So why did she feel a niggling sensation of being unfaithful to him? It made no sense.
Surely she’d laid all those childish feelings of infatuation for Hollister to rest when she’d returned home. And, once she’d gotten closer to Dan, she’d thought that kind of fairy tale love wasn’t necessary. She and her fiancé had talked about how their mission for God was more important than any fleeting emotion. A solid marriage was built on commitment, loyalty, and faithfulness. Wasn’t it? That’s what she’d have with Dan Gentry. That’s what she wanted, she told herself.
But looking over at Hollister handsome tortured face, she suddenly wondered if she’d lied to herself. No man had ever made her feel the things Hollister did. Just looking at his strong hands on the tablecloth made her shiver. He was everything male and dangerous. The knowing glint in his smoky golden eyes set her heart racing. The curl of his full lips made her ache to place a soft kiss upon them. Lust, it must be lust, she told herself firmly. That’s all it was. She loved Dan. She loved his gentle ways. She loved his strong work ethic. And she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was meant to join with him in his mission work. These lashings of heat and disturbing trembles were nothing more than lust. And she would not fall to such deceit.
“Who is he, Blackbird?” Hollister’s voice deepened. Before it had sounded merely ominous, now it sounded lethal.
She coughed into her hand. She pulled the hem of her t-shirt down. She fiddled with the silver fork balanced on the edge of her thick, white plate.
“Darling?” a man asked.
Maggie licked her dry lips and looked over at her fiancé as he stood in the kitchen doorway behind Hollister. She gave the slight man a strained smile and beckoned him to her.
“Come over and meet an old family friend, Dan,” she said not looking at the fuming man sitting across the table.
A huge welcoming smile spread over Dan’s face. He stuck out his hand. He hardly had time to move out of the way as Hollister moved out of the chair with the grace of a deadly predator. The taller man gave Dan one dismissive look before storming out of the coffee shop.
“Who was that?” Dan asked. He was a peaceful man, some would say almost passive. And right now his frightened eyes were as big as saucers.
“He’s Gage’s business partner.”
“Ahh,” Dan said nodding sagely. “That explains his crazy behavior. I bet it’s going to take some time for him to get back to normal.”
“Normal?” Maggie wondered aloud.
“Yeah.”
Her fiancé sat in the chair just vacated by Hollister. He plucked a fork from the platter in the middle of the table. He took a hearty bite of the slice of Red Bean Pie. He began methodically chewing.
Maggie suddenly wanted to scream. One of the things she admired about Daniel Gentry was his placid and predictable nature. He was a religious scholar who could and did expound on any point of controversy. He was vocal in almost any situation, though she had heard whispers that some considered him pedantic. He knew the answer to every deep spiritual question, and was eager to give it. He was a pillar of the church, even when some complained about his autocratic ways. But at the moment, Maggie wanted to shake him out of his complacency. She needed to know what he’d meant when he’d spoken of Hollister in such a derisive way.
“Why wouldn’t he be normal, Dan?”
She literally counted as he chewed his bite of pie exactly twelve more times before answering her. Finally finished chewing, he swallowed, and dabbed at his lips with the cloth napkin. He eyed the pie and was about to go in for another lengthy bite when Maggie’s patience failed her.
“Dan!” she hissed. “Why wouldn’t Hollister be normal?”
The young pastor’s face settled into a professional mask. “You know I can’t share one church member’s burdens with another. That would be unethical. And besides that it would be unscriptural. The Bible speaks very plainly about things told to you in confidence. In fact, the book of Proverbs alone has…”
“Dan,” she cut him off before he went into a long-winded explanation.
He sighed heavily. He looked longingly at the remains of the slice of Red Bean Pie littering his plate.
“If I tell you, will let me finish my food in peace?”
Maggie nodded. She leaned forward in her chair. She gritted her teeth against what he might tell her. She knew now that Hollister had been the one Gage had sped away to save just two weeks ago. It must have been him. Gage looked like all the demons of hell were in pursuit of him the day he’d raced off to the air strip. Carrie looked more worried than Maggie had ever seen her, as well. Her heart clutched in her chest as she realized something awful must have befallen Hollister. She felt hot tears gather in the corners of her eyes. If all she felt for the man was lust, then why did she feel like she was dying right now?
“OK, but you have to keep this to yourself,” he said by way of explanation.
“I will,” she promised. “You know I will.”
Dan reached over and patted her fisted hands. His fingers grazed the lovely turquoise bangle she never took off. He frowned. “It’s OK, Honey. He’s safe now. You don’t have to fall apart. Especially since it was a mess of his own making. Mr. Hollister deserves our kindness and our prayers, to be sure. But I’d just as soon you stayed away from him.”
“What?” How was that even possible? Stay away from Hollister? It’d be easier if Dan told her to stop breathing.
“He’s dangerous, Honey. I’m not sure he’s right in the head. Wh
o knows when he’ll snap and hurt somebody?”
“Hollister would never hurt me.”
Even as she hotly defended him, she knew, deep down in her soul, it was the truth. Had she ever been afraid of him?
“Honey, a man with PTSD isn’t stable.”
“PTSD?”
The preacher nodded with a superior look. “Gage has asked me to be aware that your friend is going to need a long recovery. He’s been through a lot. And now he needs the community to be understanding and kind. Mr. Hollister is going to need a lot of help to get through the next few years.”
“What? Why?”
“Honey, don’t you know?” he asked patiently. “I thought by now everyone in Bozeman knew,” he dithered on.
“Dan,” she said forcefully. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mr. Hollister has been in a prison in the Middle East for six months. There’s no telling what kinds of torture or perversion he’s suffered through. The poor man needs our sympathy. He really does. Why he was there in the first place after already being incarcerated in the same place for three years anybody’s guess. You’d think he’d have enough sense to avoid the place. I’m thinking he must have done something awful to be locked back up. To merit such a harsh punishment, he must have broken all kinds of local laws. I’m of the opinion he only got what he deserved. He was probably involved in some kind of illegal drug operation. I’ve heard there’re very strict about such things in the Middle East. You don’t just go into someone else’s country and upset the culture. And now, well, he’s little more than a brutal heathen. Really, who knows what he might do? So, until he’s settled down, I want you to stay away from him, you hear?”
Maggie didn’t hear. And if she had, there’s no way she would have agreed to do as her fiancé requested. Hollister hadn’t rejected her. He’d been held captive twice. She had to get to him. She had to talk to him. She had to hold him, to comfort him. Nothing else mattered. Without realizing, she got us and began to run towards the door.
“Wait,” called Dan from his seat. “Where are you going?”
His worried voice stopped her. She turned. “I’ve got to find Hollister.”
“That’s not a good idea, Honey,” he reproved not bothering to get out of his chair. His eye was still fixed on the remaining pie.
“I don’t care,” she answered.
“But… well… what if he becomes violent?” this time he did tear his gaze from the food. He fixed a concerned look towards Maggie. “PTSD sufferers can be very erratic. Just take a second and think.”
“Hollister has always been the most dangerous man I know. He’s made a living being a warrior and a hero. He’s strong and he’s hard, but he’d never hurt me. I’d bet my life on that?”
“I still think it’d be better… Maggie? Maggie come back here,” he yelled at her disappearing back.
The girl ran out into the snowy parking lot. The temperature was lower than normal. And that was saying something for the Rocky Mountains in winter. But she didn’t feel the biting cold. All she could think about was getting to Hollister. Slamming the compact car she drove into gear, she spun out of the gravel parking lot. A block over and she was on the main street of Bozeman. There was almost no traffic on the street on this weekday morning. If the heavy icing and snow didn’t keep folks at home, then the below zero temperatures did.
Ranchers might work in any type of weather, but the city folk tended to stay holed up in their nice warm houses on a day like today. She passed the old YMCA. A few of the towering old Queen Anne mansions on the side roads still had their Christmas lights up. Any other time, she’d stop and admire the pretty sight of multi-colored fairy lights overlaid by lacy falling snow. But she didn’t even spare the homes a passing glance. She took a right on the big road out of town. She would try to run Hollister to ground at her family’s ranch before he took off. She knew if he wanted to, he could completely drop off the radar. No one would ever find him if he decided to go into hiding. It was sort of an irony. According to Gage, Hollister thought she’d be the one to run from London and hide. Instead, God had kept her there and used her unexpected encounter with Fiona to set her on the road to healing.
Eventually, she’d not only come home, she’d brought Fiona with her. Just getting the woman away from Harlow Fleming had been helpful. Once separated from the cosmopolitan atmosphere of London Fiona had taken an authentic look at who she was. It’s hard to hide from yourself in Montana. The wide open spaces, mountains, honest and plain-spoken folk, and lack of sophisticated pastimes had done Fiona a world of good. And Dan had mentored the woman, as well. He was a good listener. And poor Fiona had lots to tell. Sometimes Maggie thought there was a little too much closeness between the pair. But she’d come to love them both and would always quickly dismiss her suspicions.
The snow began falling in a torrent. She was glad the road went through bottom country and not up the winding trails towards the mountain tops. She’d hiked through snow like this before, but she’d never driven through it. The white-out conditions meant she really had no idea if she was still on the road. Whip-like markers lined the sides of the highway. But the snow was falling in thick white sheets and she was having a very hard time seeing the markers.
She was taking what she thought was a wide bend in the road when her front tires ran off into the icy ditch. She slammed the car into reverse and tried to back out onto the slippery blacktop. The car lurched backward but the tires could find no purchase. The little compact car quickly slid back into the ditch.
Maggie took a deep breath. Cell phone service was always sketchy out this far from town. The sheltering mountains didn’t help with that. She plucked her phone from her purse. She must be in a very low spot because she saw on the tiny monitor that there was no signal. She blew at the hair that fell across her face. She had her sheepskin coat. And there was an emergency bag of water, food, flashlights, and a lightweight foil blanket in the trunk of the car. She could wait it out. A snow plow would come through sooner or later. The state prided itself on keeping its roads passable. But they’d have to wait until the blizzard blew over. That could take a while.
She wondered if there was any way to hike to a nearby ranch. She knew every family along this stretch of state road. Some of them were residents. Some of them just came for the summers. But any of the homes, she could get into. Maybe that would be a good idea? She wasn’t sure. Gage and Hollister said always stay with your vehicle. They’d lectured her on that topic many, many times.
But she wanted to move. She wanted to find Hollister. She knew if he wasn’t at the Black Knife, he would take off for a line cabin. There were many of those all over the family ranch. They were used by cowboys when they were out on the range. And they were perfect as a good place to ride out a blizzard. Gage kept them all well-stocked.
Against everything she’d been taught. And against her common sense, Maggie decided to try to hike. She shoved and shoved at the car’s door. It was pinned up against an embankment on the driver’s side. What if she stepped out into oncoming traffic on the passenger’s side, she wondered? She doubted there’d be anyone else out on the road, but there might be. Shooting up a quick prayer, she leaned her shoulder against the passenger side door and pushed as hard as she could.
It easily opened. She was just scrambling out into the snow storm when she saw the bare glimmer of approaching headlights. As they got closer she could tell they were the headlights of a truck. She smiled. At least she now had a ride out of this white mess.
She stood in the middle of the road and waved her arms over her head. She screamed. The blowing snow swallowed almost every sound she made. But thankfully the big pick-up rolled to a slow stop a few feet from her. She rushed around to the passenger side. Without an invitation, she jerked open the door and hopped into the warm interior of the truck.
“Thanks!” she said with a brilliant smile as she turned to look at the driver. Her eyes widened in fright. Her hand
clenched onto the door handle, bones white with the effort.
“Howdy, Magnolia,” Chase Brown said. “Long time no see.”
He looked older, Maggie thought. But, of course, he would. He’d been in prison. His face had lost its boyish fullness. He was still a very handsome young man, though now he had a few deep facial scars. And she could see the beginnings of a thuggish tattoo showing above the collar of his shirt. He was broader in the shoulders. And he was bulked up like a body builder. She thought he must have spent a lot of time in prison lifting weights and working out.
His face was stoic. Not something that had been his trademark all those years ago. Chase had been the reckless jock all the girls adored. He’d been known for his quick temper. She remembered too well what happened when he let it run away with him. But for some reason his lack of emotion now was more frightening than his rage had ever been.
She swallowed hard. This was exactly what she’d come home to face. He was her worst nightmare. And she never in a million years thought she‘d be forced to meet him alone on a snow packed highway. Facing one’s fears was a good thing. Being stuck out in the wilderness with the man who’d put you in the hospital was not. Making a quick decision, she pulled up the door’s handle and darted out into the snow.
“Oh no, you don’t,” he bellowed like an injured bull. He was out of the truck faster than she’d thought possible. He snagged her arm in one beefy paw. He dragged her up close and glared down into her face. “That was a stupid thing to do, Maggie. Very stupid.”
Her teeth chattered. She wasn’t sure if it was the cold or the terror she felt seeping all the way down to her bones. “Just let me go. I’ll get back to town on my own,” she somehow found the strength to demand.
“You’re still that bossy little skirt who thinks she’s better than anybody else, aren’t you?” He dragged her back to his truck and stuffed her inside. He made a big deal out of locking all the windows and doors before he went around to the driver’s side.