by Rebecca Deel
She stared at the chair Flynn vacated moments before. Jenny couldn’t be involved with a snake like Bates. There had to be another reason they were photographed together. Could she be a friend or cousin? Maybe directionally challenged Jenny asked Bates for directions.
Besides, weren’t they looking for a woman named Lynne? She latched onto that thought with renewed hope. “Didn’t Bates’ father tell you the girlfriend’s name was Lynne? It can’t be Jenny.”
Nick shrugged. “When we return to Otter Creek, I’ll find out.”
“We’ll find out.” Madison snatched her purse from the floor. “And if she is his mysterious girlfriend, I’ll use every persuasive tactic in my arsenal to entice her away from him.”
Nick admired Madison’s grit. After the shock of seeing her knitting student cozied up to Bates, she pulled herself together and moved to her next task: buying a car. “What about that one?” He pointed to a bright yellow four-door Jeep sparkling in the mid-afternoon sunlight.
Madison laughed. “I’d have to hide the keys from Serena.” She walked closer to the car and peered in the window. “Four-wheel drive and a CD player.” She grinned at him. “As long as it has air-conditioning and the right price tag, I might take it for a spin.”
On his left, a young salesman approached. “Shark at 12 o’clock.”
Madison jerked around. “What?” She noticed the salesman. “Oh, man.”
Nick draped his arm across her shoulders. “Don’t let him smell fear; he’ll go for the jugular.”
She frowned. “Not funny, Nick. I didn’t have time for Internet research before we came.” She sighed. “When I bought my Jeep ten years ago, Luke did the negotiating. I hate dealing with salesmen, but he treated negotiating like a game. He enjoyed outwitting the competition.”
Madison had dealt with so much in the past forty-eight hours. She deserved a break, but she wouldn’t show weakness or dependence on anybody. If he phrased his suggestion right, she might nip at his ankle instead of taking a chunk out of his leg.
“The salesman will assume I’m the one to negotiate with,” he said. “Let him present his spiel while you listen. If you hear something you don’t like, we’ll send him on a fact-finding mission so we can talk. You have the final say in the vehicle, but we’ll let him pressure me.” He grinned at the immediate relief on her face.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
The salesman stepped close enough to greet them. “Hi, name’s John. This car’s a beauty, isn’t she?”
“I’m Nick; this is Madison,” he said with a smile. “Tell me about the car.”
For the next hour, he and Madison drove several different Jeeps. Nick questioned the salesman on safety ratings, gas mileage and maintenance needs for the vehicles. He watched Madison climb in and out of each car, and eliminated three because she had difficulty maneuvering into the driver’s seat.
After narrowing the choices to two, the original yellow and a metallic red, he sent John for a couple of Cokes. Nick walked with Madison to the salesman’s office. “Well, which one do you want?”
She grinned at him, her eyes sparkling like the Atlantic on a sunny day. “I like them both, but the yellow one is my favorite. I’ll have to keep a tight fist around my keys when I’m with Serena, though.” She named her price limit.
When John returned with their drinks, he said, “Well, which car did you decide to buy? They won’t last long at that price.” He sat behind his desk, focused on Nick.
Nick sipped his Coke. Now he could get down to the fun part of car shopping—negotiation. “John, if your price is right, we’ll take them both.”
Madison parked the yellow Jeep in front of her friend Angela’s yarn shop and watched as Nick slid his new red Jeep into the parking slot beside her.
She smiled. John had almost kissed Nick’s feet when they signed the papers for both cars. Guess sales had been slow this month. She still couldn’t believe Nick bought a new car. The Mustang seemed in great shape, but her car knowledge ranked near the bottom of the scale.
Nick met her on the sidewalk in front of the store. “I won’t be long, if you’d rather wait in the car.” She smirked. “At least, I don’t plan to take a long time.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “I know better than that. You’ll get lost inside Yarn Jungle.”
Stepping into the familiar store revived the excitement and creativity she felt each time yarn crossed her path. Did Nick recognize The Bare Ewe’s layout? Yarn Jungle inspired her own yarn shop. Madison’s smiled faded. Used to be her inspiration when she had a shop.
She squelched the emptiness. While Nick investigated, she would scout a new location for the new-and-improved Bare Ewe. Like the mythological phoenix, The Bare Ewe would rise from the ashes.
“Madison! What brings you to town?”
She found herself engulfed in a tight hug, smiling at Angela Porter’s 60,000-watt smile. “Car shopping. I dropped in for a few knitting supplies.”
“I’m always glad to see you, but you have knitting supplies at your own store.” Her suspicious gaze morphed into one of speculation. “And who is this handsome man?”
A warm hand rested on her back. As she introduced them, she wondered if Nick saw Angela as she did, a grandmother who mentored her through the early years of marriage to Luke. In those long hours they’d spent together knitting, Madison spilled her deepest fear: losing her husband in the line of duty, perhaps leaving her with a child and no means of support.
She married Luke right out of high school and passed on the chance for further education. Madison wanted to be a stay-at-home mother. When she didn’t get pregnant, she renewed her interest in knitting. Her yarn buying habits grew so expensive, Luke teased her about asking Angela for a part-time job. Angela jumped at the chance for knowledgeable help and trained Madison in the art of running a craft store.
“So, what gives?” Angela said. “I know you have everything you need at The Bare Ewe or in your own stash.”
Her vision blurred. “Not anymore.”
Angela motioned to a sales clerk hovering nearby. “Stella, take over for me. I’ll be in my office for a while.” She closed the office door behind her. “What’s going on?”
Madison sat on the leather sofa beside Nick and poured out her story.
Angela handed her a few tissues. “How can I help?”
“I need yarn for one of my customers.”
“No problem. Take whatever you want.” She thought for a minute. “Do you have other customers who need supplies for projects in the next few weeks?”
“Why?” Madison raised her eyebrow at the thoughtful expression on her friend’s face.
“Do you have their phone numbers with you?”
She smiled. “Of course. A very wise yarn shop owner trained me to keep a list of customers, their numbers, and their yarn buying habits with me in case I stumbled on an amazing deal.”
Angela grinned. “Call them. Ask what they need and we’ll put it together. Can’t have those women learning how easy it is to order yarn on the Internet. Plus, you’ll save them shipping charges.”
“And we’ll keep my business going.” Madison smiled. “Maybe I should change The Bare Ewe’s name to Yarn Runs, Inc. Do you have pen and paper I can borrow?”
She opened the middle drawer of her desk and pulled out a fresh yellow legal pad and a pen. “Don’t bother trying to pay for the yarn, honey. Your money’s no good here. After The Bare Ewe’s back in business, we’ll work out a yarn swap.”
Several phone calls later, Madison looked over the order list Nick had written while she talked to each customer. “This is great. All of them promised to call me if they need any other supplies. They were thrilled I could still get what they needed.” Such loyal and supportive clients meant a great customer base for her new store. They were more excited than she was about setting up a new shop.
When the insurance came through, she would reorder stock and store equipment. Her fingers itched to open boxes and unwrap
the gorgeous yarn. She smiled at Nick. “We have orders to fill.”
Madison pulled skeins from bins in every part of Angela’s store and laughed at Nick’s good-natured grousing over his new role as pack mule. He carried each order to the counter for Angela and her assistant to bag and transported them to the car when the counter grew crowded.
After his final trip to the car, Nick found her pulling a few skeins of brightly colored yarn. His brow furrowed. “Did I miss an order?”
She smiled. “No, these are for Julia’s hats.” Madison thrust the yarn into his arms. “I have one more selection to make; then I’ll be ready to leave.” Motioning for him to follow, she led him to the baby yarn and selected several mint green skeins. That should be enough to do a baby afghan.
Nick studied her face. “You’re sad? I thought buying yarn was better than chocolate to you.”
“Most of the time.” She flashed him a watery smile. “This is my first time to buy yarn for a baby project since . . .” She couldn’t force any more words passed her tight throat. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.
Nick’s eyes darkened in sympathy. He shifted his load to one side and pulled her into a one-armed embrace.
With her head pillowed on his chest, she felt him kiss the top of her head. She let his warmth and support seep into her near-empty strength reservoir.
“Last bags.” Nick nudged the door closed with his foot and set the remaining bags on the crowded living room floor.
“Thanks, Nick. I’ll deliver these as we nose around town the next couple of days,” Madison said. “I’m glad Angela wrote the customers’ names on the bags.” She grabbed the back of the recliner to steady her first steps.
Nick’s eyes narrowed. Madison had spent too much time in the car today. Maybe a walk would help. “Where are your dancing shoes?”
She glanced around the room until she spotted the Sports World bags. “By the television. Why?”
“After dinner, we’ll practice for the ball.” He grinned at the dismayed look on her face.
“You’re kidding, right? I’m too tired to trek through the wilderness.”
“We won’t go far, but you need to walk. You’re stiff from riding so long in the car today.”
She scowled at him. “Why did I get stuck with a drill sergeant instead of Prince Charming? Can we at least eat before you torture me?”
“Where do you want to go?”
Madison headed toward the kitchen. “I’ll put something together for us here.”
Nick’s stomach twisted in protest. “You’re tired. Don’t go to any trouble.” He hurried after her, scrambling for other legitimate excuses to keep her out of the kitchen. By the time he caught up with her, she had the refrigerator door open.
She glanced over her shoulder, a mischievous grin on her lips. “What’s the matter, Santana? Afraid I’ll cook for you?”
How did he answer that? Though she admitted being a lame-duck chef, he would hurt her feelings if he agreed. If he denied it, he’d have to eat whatever burnt sacrifice she laid on his plate. Luke had told horror stories about her culinary disasters. He sighed. Tomorrow he’d order a big bouquet of flowers. It was cheaper than spending the night in the emergency room.
Madison spun around with bread, lunchmeat, lettuce, tomato, cheese and condiments in her hands. “Relax, Nick. I make great sandwiches. Grab a couple bottles of water from the refrigerator. I feel like I tramped around the Mojave Desert today.”
They finished their meal, straightened the kitchen, and drove to the Churchill fitness trail. “We’ll take the one-mile track,” Nick said. He smiled as she maneuvered from the vehicle with ease and stepped onto the pavement.
They headed down the trail, her hand in his. He didn’t want to move their relationship too fast, but she seemed more comfortable with him. She didn’t mind his casual touches, had initiated a few herself in the past couple of days. He didn’t want to do this wrong, but he loved her and it was hard to be patient.
He gave her a sideways glance, wondered about her reaction when he asked the question that plagued him for two days. “You up for a serious question?” She loosened her grip, but he refused to let her pull away. Taking her silence as grudging permission, he said, “Why do you have a gun phobia?”
Madison jerked her startled gaze from the paved trail to the silent man beside her. Why did her aversion to guns bother him? The lenses of his sunglasses acted as a mirror, so she couldn’t judge from his eyes how he felt about the subject. The set of his jaw, however, told her he wanted an answer.
She wrinkled her nose. “Unpleasant topic. Let’s discuss the weather or Ruth’s latest New York Times bestseller.” He squeezed her hand instead of replying. “It’s not important, Nick. Can’t we drop it?”
“It matters, Madison.” His hard tone brooked no more arguments.
She walked in silence a few minutes, dipping into the well of forgotten memories. “A few months before he died, Luke and I went on vacation with my family to visit our aunt and uncle in Las Vegas. One afternoon, Megan and I drove to Dad’s old bank. Our cousin worked there as a teller.” She stared straight ahead and waited for a jogger to pass them on the trail.
“We chose the wrong afternoon to visit Mandy.” Her voice thickened. “Meg and I arrived ten minutes before three bank robbers burst into the building, waving guns and shouting threats.” She smiled a little. “And before you ask, Luke was on the golf course with Dad at the time.”
“What happened?”
“The stuff of nightmares. The robbers forced all of us face down on the floor, except for Mandy. They made her empty the cash drawer.” Her voice broke. “She didn’t move fast enough to suit them. They shot her in the chest. After they left, Meg and I ran behind the counter. We tried to stop the bleeding, but she died in our arms before the paramedics arrived.”
Madison lifted her hair off the back of her neck with her free hand, and let the hot breeze float across her perspiring skin.
“Were they caught?”
She smiled. Once a cop, always a cop. “We flew back to Las Vegas last year and testified against them. All three are in prison.”
They walked further in silence. Madison waited, knowing the subject would remain open until he was satisfied.
“No phobia about guns before the bank robbery?”
Madison shook her head. She’d been married to a police officer for 12 years. It would have been tough for their marriage to survive that type of problem. Luke kept his service weapon locked in a gun safe at the apartment, his backup piece locked in the nightstand drawer.
“Luke didn’t get a chance to help you over the trauma?”
“No.” Where did these questions lead? Why did it matter if she feared guns? Seemed a healthy fear in light of what happened to her cousin.
“We have to deal with this, Madison.”
His soft words triggered a shudder. She could handle whatever he threw at her for a short time, but did it really matter? “Why, Nick?”
They completed the one-mile trail and stopped beside his car. He slipped his sunglasses into his pocket before reaching for her other hand. “I work with weapons every day. Some jobs I take are too risky without a weapon.” He interlaced their fingers. “We have to get past this if we’re going to have a chance.”
Nick waited for signs his statement spooked her, but a smile curved her beautiful mouth. Did she understand the hidden message behind those words?
“How do we solve my problem, then?”
Nick stilled, almost afraid to breathe. “Find a shooting range. I’ll teach you gun safety and how to handle and fire a weapon.”
She tilted her head. “You won’t pressure me into buying a gun, even with Bates in town?” Her taut voice told him without asking that the wrong answer would detonate his plan.
He tightened his grip on her hands. “Of course not. I don’t want you frightened every time I carry a weapon.” And that would be every place the law allowed him to carry one, at least until he
r stalker sat behind bars.
She raised her head. “So, what’s the first step? Ask Ethan about a shooting range?”
He released one of her hands and caressed her cheek. “That’s the second step. This is the first one.” Nick slid his hand into her hair and cupped the back of her head. He tilted his head toward her, giving her plenty of time to step away. When she didn’t, he took his time kissing her, enjoying the silky warmth and honeyed taste of Madison.
When he lifted his lips from hers, the stunned look in her blue eyes sent a zing of satisfaction through him. He wanted to convey his seriousness, but not scare her off. Stunned worked, too.
Nick unlocked the back door and stepped into the dim kitchen. A sweet, flowery scent tickled his nose. Gut-deep instinct made him sweep Madison behind him and draw his weapon.
His scanned the kitchen and dining room they’d left an hour earlier until his gaze landed on a vase full of white roses sitting in the middle of Madison’s table. His eyes narrowed.
“What’s wrong?” Madison whispered in his ear.
He nodded in the direction of the roses.
She turned her head and drew in a ragged breath. “White roses?”
Low-level murmuring and a flickering blue light in the living room caught his attention. With his left hand, Nick pulled his keys from his pocket and shoved them into her hand. “Go to the Jeep. Lock yourself in and wait for me.”
She gripped his hand. “I won’t let you face him alone.”
Admiration of her courage warred with an overwhelming desire to throttle her for disobeying his orders. Nick could handle Bates or whoever might still be in her house. He didn’t want to do it while worrying about her safety. No time to argue with her now. Guess he’d stumbled on another discussion topic for their late-night phone calls. “Stay behind me. If I tell you to run, take off. No questions.”
She nodded.
With silent, sure movements, Nick crossed the kitchen and maneuvered down the hall toward the living room. He motioned for Madison to stay still and hugged the wall near the doorway.