by Vella, Wendy
“I have nothing to say. Now can we go, please.”
“Have you spoken to anyone about it? Got help?”
She’d had help, lots of it, and time was supposedly the healer of everything. Well, that wasn’t working, clearly.
“I need to go, Fin, or I’ll be late.”
Maggs walked to her car and took out the keys. She then locked it and shut the hood. When she returned, she walked by Fin to where his large beast of a bike stood. She let out a squeak as hands grabbed her, turning her to face him.
“Something has scared you, Maggie Winter, and I plan on finding out what.”
He’d taken off his glasses, and those blue eyes had small flecks of gray in them, the iris ringed in a darker shade. She’d not noticed that before.
“I want to be there for you, Maggs, as the others would. I’m happy you had me both times, but you need to deal with this, and to do that you have to tell me what’s going on.”
Words came and went until all she had left to say was “They’re my demons, ranger boy, and I don’t share.”
Chapter Ten
She made herself lean in and plant a loud smacking kiss on his cold lips, then stepped back. He stopped her, his arms pulling her into his body. His hand raised her chin.
Taking his time, Fin kissed her thoroughly. The hell of it was that she reacted, and part of her reveled in that. Reveled in the fact that she could still feel when inside she was numb. There were dark, ugly places in there now that hadn’t been there before. Places that dropped her to her knees when she wasn’t expecting it. But this, well this made her feel alive.
“Damn, Maggs,” he whispered against her lips. “Come to bed with me.”
Her bones turned to liquid. “I don’t think that’s wise.”
“It would be good, you know that. Since you’ve been back, I think we’ve established just how good.”
“I don’t doubt that, as we both know you’ve had plenty of practice.”
“That’s insulting, and you know it.” He looked seriously pissed with her now; all that lovely heat had gone from his eyes.
“I know, and I’m sorry. Can we just go, please?”
“This is not done, Maggie. Any of it.” He gave her a hard look before turning away.
Maggs exhaled slowly. For now she’d kept her secrets safe.
“Put this on.” He handed her a helmet. “Do you have gloves?”
She opened her bag and dug them out. When she was done, she slung it over her head so it hung at her side.
“Where am I going?” His words were cool as he climbed on.
“Straight ahead until you see a sign with the letters SRR on it, on the right.”
“Your family home?”
She nodded.
“Okay, climb on.” He straddled the bike.
“I need you not to tell the others, Fin,” Maggs said before she did as he asked.
“About what just happened and the fact you won’t tell me why it happened or how you got that scar on your arm? Why you don’t want to be shot—”
“Yes!” Maggs interrupted him.
“For now I’ll keep what happened to myself, but they know something’s off with you, Maggs. None of them are fools.”
“I know.” And she did. Had seen the questioning looks in her friends’ eyes. She should tell them, just as she should tell her family. What was stopping her?
“The others are there for you too, Maggs. You have to know that, right? You’re not in London now. Here you have people in your corner, lots of them.”
“I know.” His words subdued her, because he was right. The guilt settled heavily on her shoulders.
“Just like you’re always there for them.”
“Sure. Now, can we go? It’s freezing out here.” She climbed on behind him, and much to her relief, he started the bike. Seconds later, she was clinging to him as the engine gave a throaty purr and they took off down the road.
She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit to enjoying this. Holding Fin and flying down the road with beauty all around them. She felt free, which was of course a lie; no one was truly free. And after what she’d just experienced, Maggs knew it would take time for her to ever feel that way again.
Too soon, he slowed and turned.
“You can stop at the gate. I’ll walk.”
He hadn’t heard or simply ignored her and turned into the driveway. Huge stone pillars marked the property she’d been born and raised in. The land went for miles, and she’d spent her childhood riding and running over some of it with her siblings. Fin pulled the bike to a stop halfway down the drive.
“What does SRR stand for?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Sleepy River Ranch.”
“Because?”
“Weirdly it’s because a sleepy river runs through it.”
“Such the wiseass.”
“I try,” Maggie managed to get out through her dry throat. She was nervous at seeing her family again. Would they notice the changes in her like Fin had? Should she have told them? She didn’t seem to be able to come up with the rational arguments anymore as to why she’d kept the shooting to herself.
“So this was your family home growing up?”
“Yes.”
“Is this the first time you’ve been home?”
“For two years.”
“You’ve been back five days. How come you haven’t been home yet?”
“They were busy and away at a cattle sale. They only got back day before yesterday.”
“You guys close?”
“Yes. Why all the questions?”
“Just being polite.”
“And yet you don’t talk about your family.”
“We’re not talking about me.”
Maggs could tell by the clenching of his jaw it was a sore point. Pip had told her Fin’s family life had been a shitfight.
“So how come you never told me about your family, Maggs?”
“You never asked.”
“I’m not really the asking type. I don’t have a ton of questions all lined up to be asked like the Trainers. Those guys know a man’s shoe size before he’s been in town a day.”
“Yeah, real Chatty Cathys, those three,” Maggie said as he rolled on slowly down the drive. She found a smile as the large house came into view. She’d loved living here growing up. The riding, the fun, all of it had been the best playground a child could have.
“Nice place,” Fin said, stopping. They both then just sat there looking at the house.
The roof was high and pitched, the house natural stone and cedar. It was two stories in the middle with wings jutting left and right. Her dad loved plants and trees, so they were everywhere, in beds or in clumps. He wasn’t big on neat or aesthetic, it was just a case with him of, a plant should go here, so it did.
“Must have been fun growing up here.”
“It was. We had to work hard, but there was lots of play too. Love, laughter. I was lucky to grow up in this family.”
“Really lucky, and I’m pleased you did.”
“Thanks, and see you round.” She got off and handed him her helmet. “Much to my surprise, I enjoyed that.”
“Anytime you want a ride, red, I’m your man.” He’d taken his helmet off too and waggled his eyebrows.
“Ha, that was really smooth,” Maggs managed as all the spit dried up in her throat. And what a ride it would be.
“I love the way your mind goes straight to the gutter.”
“You went there first!”
“Not at all. I was offering a ride on my bike.”
She didn’t buy the innocent look. “Right, of course you were.”
“Your folks home?” He looked at the house again.
“They’ll be working. I’ll go and track them down.” A lump of emotion balled in her throat at the thought of seeing her family again.
“Hey.” She felt Fin’s hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m all good. The wind made my nose ru
n.”
“No. Good is what you definitely are not, and I wish you’d tell me what’s going on, Maggie.”
“I’m okay, Fin, really.” He saw too much. Until she’d made the decision to tell others what had happened, she needed to keep him at arm’s length, because she had a feeling he could easily break down her barriers.
Coming home to Ryker Falls had taught Maggie some things. One was that she never wanted to leave here again. It was home, and she loved her friends and family. But the other thing she’d learned was that Fin Hudson meant something to her. She’d not realized just how much until she’d seen him again.
Distance, Maggie thought. Treat him like she did the others, and surely everything would go back to normal.
“So I’ll see you, Fin.” Stepping back and away from him, she raised her hand and walked toward the house. He watched her—she felt his eyes—and it wasn’t until she was inside the house with the door closed that she heard the throaty purr of his motorbike rolling back down her driveway.
Chapter Eleven
Fin rode slowly back to Ryker Falls. He used the time to think about things. So many things. A few weeks ago, he’d worried about idiots getting frost bite when they hiked up the mountains unequipped. Now he had this stuff with Maggs and a femur with a missing body he’d found on his doorstep.
What the hell was her deal?
Riding back into town, Fin parked outside Joe’s bar. Coffee, he thought, and maybe a burger. Or maybe a beer? Was he ready to talk to people with all this crap swirling inside him?
“No time like the present to find out,” he muttered, heading to Apple Sours—or A.S., as the locals called it. It had been his friend’s first foray into business, and he loved the place. Maybe it would right all the crazy in his world for a while.
“Oh, Findlay Hudson, just the man I wanted to see.”
Speaking of crazy. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Howard?” Fin stopped on the sidewalk and waited for Dylan’s mom to reach him.
“Any news on who that femur belongs to?”
“None, sorry.”
“Well, you let me know when you hear something.”
When hell freezes over.
“I want to discuss the scavenger hunt with you.”
“What scavenger hunt?”
“We are having one for New Year’s Eve called Hunt For Your Honey. We have yet to promote it, but I want to get a jump on things.”
“I shudder to think what Hunt For Your Honey means.”
“The details are still being worked out.” Her mouth formed a small disapproving line.
Because she was the mother of someone he respected, and that someone was married to a Trainer, Fin always tried to be nice to her. Sometimes it was hard, as she’d been a bitch as long as he’d known her.
On the big-boned side, she usually wore a lot of makeup and exercise clothes when she wasn’t in one of her power suits. Today she was covered from head to toe in a black overcoat with a fur collar. On her head was a hat in the same material. She looked to Fin like some kind of secret agent.
“Okay. Why do you want to discuss this scavenger hunt with me?”
“Well now, as the local ranger, it’s important you help us with setting the clues and mapping the course for the hunt.”
“Is it?” This was news to him. “I’ve never had anything to do with any you’ve run before.”
“It’s time” was all she said. “The committee will be in touch.”
“What exactly am I expected to do?”
“Scout out locations for clues and the course. I just told you that.” Her brows met in the middle.
“Right. You do realize it could possibly be snowing that day?”
“We are made of hardy stuff here! A little snow won’t upset anyone!”
“So the hunt is undertaken in couples?” It was a hunch, but he saw he’d hit his mark as she nodded.
“They will be tied together around their wrists.”
“Don’t you think all this is a bit extreme just to get more grandkids?” Fin wasn’t in the best of moods, so he just said what was on his mind—and what others refused to say to this woman.
“I beg your pardon?”
He’d hit his second mark accurately, because guilty color flooded her cheeks.
“Your daughters can find their own husbands, Mrs. Howard. Stop—”
“Fin, I need your help!”
Mrs. L waved at him from her shop a few feet away.
“Be right there, Mrs. L.”
“Now, Fin. It’s urgent!”
“Excuse me, Mrs. Howard.” He walked away, leaving the woman openmouthed and wordless for possibly the first time in her life. He found Mrs. L behind her counter after he’d managed to navigate his way through her shop.
“You have too much stuff in here.”
“I just saved your life. Don’t you insult my shop.” She blinked, and he saw her eyelashes had red feathers attached to them.
“How do you figure that?”
“That Mary Howard is mean if you get on her bad side, and you were heading that way. I saved you.”
Her red lipstick was disappearing up the lines around her mouth.
“I know her son; I’m safe.”
“Maybe, but you don’t want to put it to the test. Besides, I want to know about that femur.” She leaned two bony elbows on the counter, settling in for a chat.
“I don’t know anything about it other than it’s part of a leg.”
Her lips drew into a thin line.
“Honestly.” He raised both hands. “And it’s downright disturbing how comfortable this town is discussing it, considering it belongs to a body we haven’t found.”
“Oh, all right,” she snapped. “Now, I have something for you. You’ve had a tough time of things lately.”
“I’m fine. Nothing to worry about with me.” Maggie, however, now that’s another matter.
Fin headed out of the store minutes later with a mug in his hand. On the front were the words "My Favorite Big Guy.” Shaking his head, he made for Joe’s bar, desperate now for that beer.
Decorated to blend and not jar the senses, A.S. was a big space with a separate eating area. One wall was painted vivid jade, and the contrast to the natural colors worked, especially when you took in the black-and-white prints of actors hung in different sizes and shapes on it.
He found friends seated at the bar, a huge slab of wood another friend had found for Joe. Stained and polished, cups and glasses rested on it.
“Trainers and Howards.”
“Uncle Fin!”
On the last stool sat Grace. Sweet, cheeky, and someone Fin loved very much. Beside her was her cousin Benjamin.
“How’s my little people?” He kissed the top of Benjamin’s head, as he was eating fries and Fin knew from experience that food was important to the little guy. He then lifted Grace into his arms for a hug. Grace excelled at hugging.
With her wrapped around him like a monkey, he took her seat.
“You want lunch?” Joe asked.
“Yeah. Burger and fries would be good, and a beer.”
“I love Uncle Joe’s ice cream sundaes,” Grace said, smiling up at him in that way that usually got whatever she wanted.
“I’ll share with you then, sweetheart. We’ll get one after the burger.”
“Gracie, honey, you’ve already had one. I think that’s enough,” Dylan Howard said. Married to Pip, he’d been an FBI profiler in another life but had given that up to come here and be a builder. They now had two kids and were happy, which when you got right down to it, was what you wanted for your friends.
Fin winked at her, and she winked back, closing both eyes. Then got off his lap to debate the sundae issue with her daddy.
“You want your beer in that?” Joe pointed at the mug he lowered to the bar.
“Mrs. L gave it to me. Apparently I’ve had a tough time of things lately and needed cheering up.”
“Aww, now that’s sweet, her thin
king of you as a big guy.”
“I’m a big guy,” Fin said, emphasizing the big.
“We’re serving wieners today, you want one?” Joe fired back, lowering the now full mug onto the bar before him.
“Your mom told me I’m helping with the New Year’s Eve treasure hunt, and it’s called Hunt For Your Honey, Dylan,” Fin said after he’d taken a mouthful. “I may have made an enemy for life by telling her that her daughters were old enough to find men of their own.”
Dylan winced. “Nice try, but it won’t work. I told her no when she asked me to help her. She’s clearly moved on to you. I didn’t know about the name though, but it figures seeing as she’s going with a theme, and that’s matching my sisters up with men so they can give her grandbabies.”
“Damn, why didn’t I think of that.”
“Saying no?”
“Yup.”
“It pays to say it early when she’s trying to get you to do something, and keep saying it until it’s lodged in her head. You have to say it like you mean it too. None of this respectful weak stuff. A hard no works most times.”
“No weak stuff. Gotcha, thanks for the tip. I’ll track her down and try that; that is, if she ever speaks to me again.”
“Not all bad then,” Dylan added.
“Anyone seen Maggie today?” Pip asked.
“Me,” Fin said, hoping no one pushed him on where and when.
“Where?”
“About.”
“About where?” Pip had wandered around the bar and was pouring herself a soda. She then braced her hands on it and gave him a look that said she wasn’t moving until she had answers.
“I took my bike out for a run after yoga class and found her car broken down. I picked her up and took her to visit her folks.” Nice. Keep it simple and precise. No one would know that in fact it was way more than that.
“On your bike?”
“Yes, on my bike, and she made it in one piece.”
“How did she seem?” Pip leaned in to eyeball him.
“Normal.” His sweater felt like it was strangling him.
“Normal as in normal, or normal as in a bit off?”
“What the hell does that even mean? Sorry, Gracie,” he said to the little girl who was coloring a Santa, carefully in the lines, in a book.