“Just trying to help.”
“I got all the help I need. See this?” She unclasped her bracelet and suspended it in the air like a pendulum, the diamond’s prisms sparkling in the sun. “I have plans for this baby. Straight to the pawnshop. This sucker is my ticket to anywhere I want to go.” New York, here I come.
“Pretty. Where’d you get it?”
“From the big lug. Ya know, the one getting away with murder.”
“Kelly?”
“You know of another person getting away with murder? Of course it was from him.”
His eyes narrowed on the bracelet. “Can I see it?”
She held it out for him, and his warm hand carefully picked it from her palm.
Mick examined the piece of jewelry and returned it. “Is that necklace from him too?” His gaze went to her neck, and so did Vera’s hand.
“No.” She lowered her lashes and focused on the buttons of her day dress. “It’s my grandma’s. She gave it to me.”
“Is she still living?”
Oh, if she was. Life would have been so different. “No, she passed when I was fourteen. She was a Christian.” Why she felt the need to tell Mick that, she hadn’t a clue. “It’s a shocker looking at the way I turned out, huh?”
“I wish I could have met her.”
Her defenses scattered like sheet music in a breeze, confusing her as to which emotional tune she should pick. Angry? Surprised? Sappy? No, not sappy. He probably wasn’t sincere, anyway.
“You should get a pendant to hang on it.”
“I did have somethin’, but it’s … lost.” She forced a smile. “At least, I think it’s gone. I won’t know for sure until I see my apartment again.” If she even got the opportunity. Probably wouldn’t. “But, hey, that’s how the song sings sometimes.”
His eyes filled with tenderness. “I would like to show that bracelet to the captain.”
She sat straight, her back catching resistance from the warm leather seat. “We’re goin’ back to Pittsburgh? When?”
“Me. Not you.”
Those short responses. She wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He reached in his pocket and gave her a folded paper.
“Urgent.” Vera read aloud. “Mandatory meeting Wednesday with the D.A. 11:30.” She read it again. Each word pushed her heart farther into her gut. Wednesday. Three days from now. “What’s this about?”
“Not certain. The captain called Mrs. Chambers this morning with that message.”
Vera scowled as she handed it back to him. “So where am I getting shuffled off to? Is it the deputy’s turn or the sheriff’s?” She suppressed a groan. What was it that bothered her, being thrown into the power of another policeman, or Mick leaving without her?
The sun bounced off his windblown hair, highlighting golden tones. “I had hoped you wouldn’t mind staying with Mrs. Chambers.”
“Um … no. Not a bit. We jive well together.”
“Good. I’m taking you Tuesday night, and—”
“I thought the meeting was Wednesday?”
“It is. But I got to be there at nine. Leaving here by five. So you—”
“Ya said enough.” No way she was rising before good ol’ mister sun. “More time at Lacey’s means baby grand unlimited.” Beautiful. And to lounge at a place that didn’t reek like mothballs and smelly boots was a priceless perk.
“It’s settled, then.” Mick gave a satisfied nod. “Ready to get Mrs. Chambers some teaberry? It’s just a little walk up that hill.”
“Little?” She eyed him suspiciously. “Will you shake on it?”
He grinned, not his put-up-with-Vera smirk, but a genuine, dimple-dashing smile. What had happened between earlier and now? My-oh-my, the marked difference in this man did funny things to her insides. She would’ve sent him out for Kotex sooner if she’d known she’d get these results.
Mick played along and stuck out his hand to which Vera happily shook.
Her thumb grazed his index finger, and her jaw dropped. “You’ve been holdin’ out on me, Micky.”
CHAPTER 16
Mick shifted on the car bench as Vera practically yanked his hand onto her lap. Palm upward, his knuckles rested on her thigh, and man alive, he should be slapped silly for the thoughts pummeling his head.
Her thumb grazed his rough fingertips. “You’re a strummer.”
“How’d you come up with that?”
“See? Right there? Those are calluses.” She stared at his hand, still within hers. “The way they’re placed on the ends of your fingers is a dead giveaway. Why didn’t you say you played the guitar?”
He offered a nonchalant shrug, gently withdrawing his hand from her grasp. “You never asked.”
“Where’d ya hide it?” She folded her arms. “I glommed every inch of that cabin, and it couldn’t be in your room because …” She blanched. “I mean … I’ve never seen it lyin’ around.” She clamped her mouth, and her eyes widened as if she was bracing herself for a good scolding.
His lips twitched, fighting a smile.
She became more fidgety than the pesky crickets that camped outside his bedroom window, and it wasn’t until his smile spread into a full-blown grin that understanding registered in her emerald eyes.
“You know I went in your room.” Her cheeks reddened. “Don’t you?”
“I was wondering if you’d own up to it.”
“You ain’t angry?”
“No.” He winked.
“I thought if you found out, I’d be peeling potatoes or scrubbing the outhouse as penance.” Her shaky laughter made his ribs pinch.
This wasn’t the picture he wanted her to have of him—a disciplined idiot who offered no mercy. How stupid for him to think letting her drive his car would be enough to gain her trust. He needed to give more, work harder, to change that image. “Look what’s tucked on the floor behind you.”
She shifted onto her knees and peered into the backseat. Her squeal could’ve rattled the branches above them. “Your guitar. And it’s a Gibson!” Her gaze swept the hard, black case with its gold-toned hinges, then she faced him. “It’s been behind me the entire time?”
“Yes ma’am.”
She gave an incredulous shake of her head. “I need to be more aware of my surroundings.”
He smiled. “How about you try it out?”
“Okay, now ya got me concerned.” She leaned toward him and pressed a palm to his forehead. “You feeling okay?”
“Never been better.”
Her hand dropped from his face, and her pink-tinged lips spread into a heart-pounding grin. “Then, in that case, I’d love to play your fancy guitar.” She scurried out of the car and eyed the lush vicinity. “There’s a decent-sized rock over there with plenty of room for us both.”
He didn’t even fight the laughter rumbling in his chest. What she’d considered decent-sized was hardly enough space unless she sat on his lap. The image caused heat to climb his neck. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. But the eagerness in her step and the lightness in her voice made him want to give her anything she desired.
“Sounds good.” He stepped out, the tall grass skimming his trousers, and he unlatched and opened the case. With careful handling, he withdrew the Gibson, the guitar’s red spruce body absorbing the fading daylight.
Vera, already settled on the moss-carpeted rock, patted the area beside her.
He smiled. “I’m good right here.” When he handed her the instrument, she gave a low whistle.
She spent the following half hour playing several songs comprised of basic chords. Mick introduced her to some complex fingerings to give her a broader scope when creating new music. He positioned her hands on the rosewood fretboard, and the look of triumph in her eyes when she mastered the chord was enough to undo him.
He slid a thick finger under his collar. “Are you ready to head back to the cabin?”
Her strumming paused. “Don’t we need
to get Lacey those berries?”
Ah, yes. The teaberry. “We should probably fetch some before the sun goes down.” Mick never trekked through the forest after twilight. Those nocturnal hours were reserved for black bears and other creatures.
With a wistful sigh, Vera handed back the guitar. “Thank you, Mick.” The marked appreciation in her expression peeled away her coarse edges, baring a layer of Vera Pembroke he’d never seen.
Perhaps he could yet gain her trust, as long as he didn’t lose his sanity in the process.
Vera cupped her knees and bent over, catching her breath. “So when you said a little walk, I didn’t know you meant all uphill.”
Mick stopped mid-stride. “It’s just up yonder.”
Maybe she should have him shake on that one as well. They continued on the narrow foot path supposedly taking them to this famous teaberry patch.
“How much of this stuff does Lacey need?” Shouldn’t they have brought baskets or something? Vera had never laid eyes on a teaberry. Was it as big as a strawberry? Would her fingers get stained by the juice?
“We’ll fill up the pouch I brought.” He patted his pocket.
Her brows rose. They must be smaller than blueberries to fit in a little bag. Her foot skidded on loose dirt, and Mick caught her hand, keeping her from tumbling down the hill in a tangle of limbs and humiliation. She gave a grateful nod, and they resumed at a slower pace. It wasn’t until they crested the hill that she realized he hadn’t withdrawn his fingers from hers.
What was with him? This wasn’t like Sergeant Mean Eye. Earlier in the car, he’d winked at her. Winked! That gesture alone had tickled her gut as though she’d swallowed a bucket of feathers. Then he’d handed over his expensive guitar, not only giving tips on her playing but teaching her new chords. Now he held her hand?
Maybe the steep climb had been to blame for his continued touch, but they were currently on level land.
As if reading her thoughts, he released her and pointed to a pine-framed patch of earth dappled by the lowering sun. Vera followed him and her gaze turned inquisitive. She scanned the area, turning in a slow circle. “I don’t see any berry bushes.”
He dimpled. “That’s because they grow on the ground.”
“Oh.” Her voice registered her surprise, and she stooped to snatch a better glimpse. “Okay, where are the berries?” Because all she saw were oblong leaves, canopying dainty, white, bell-shaped flowers.
Mick crouched beside her, sending a pleasant whiff of soap and musk her way. “They don’t appear until the fall.” He plucked a leaf and handed it to her. “We’ve actually come here for this. Try it.”
“As in eat it?” Her nose wrinkled at the waxy texture. The deep-green leaf with red edges was no bigger than her thumbnail, but she wasn’t sure she could stomach it.
Mick snapped off another and broke it in half. “At least smell it.” He brought it close to her nose, and she sniffed the sweet fragrance.
She could see how a touch of that would make Lacey’s tea more flavorful. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to sample one. Before she lost her nerve, she shoved the leaf into her mouth and bit into it, tasting almost a wintergreen zest.
“Atta girl.” Mick grinned and sat back on his haunches. “What do you think?”
“Hmm. I’ve had something like this before. Do they make chewing gum this flavor?”
“Yeah. Clark’s brand.” He nodded and withdrew a navy pouch from his shirt pocket. “Mrs. Chambers likes that too. The captain always brings her some when he visits.”
Was she missing something? “Pops knows Lacey?”
Mick looked at her sideways. “I thought you knew. He’s her younger brother.”
She laughed. “That makes sense. They have the same eyes.” And say darlin’ every other sentence.
They filled the next several minutes stuffing the pouch with the teaberry leaves, a comfortable silence stretching between them. Mick stood and helped Vera to her feet. A flash of bright color over his shoulder pulled her attention.
The sunset.
She stepped past him, moving to a wider clearing. The hilltop gave her an impressive view of the radiant skyline. “Oh, wow.”
Mick joined her in admiring nature’s show. The scene looked as if it longed to be set to music, trills of pinks and golds blending—rather, harmonizing—across the expanse, giving her slice of the world a grand finale. The strong-willed sun was belting out one last fiery melody. Soon it’d bow behind the jagged row of pines, and the moon would strut onto the inky stage.
She sighed. “It’s sad they call this gorgeous place the Allegheny Forest.”
Mick gave her a curious look.
“It sounds starched. Flavorless.” She could think of rat holes with better names. “Too much like—”
“A map.”
Was he teasing her again?
“Okay, Vera, name this place.” He spread out his arms. “Can you do better?”
Ooh, nothing like a good challenge. “I could. Give me a minute. Gotta let the creativity soak in.” She allowed her gaze to rest on the trees huddled on her left. A slight breeze brought the branches to life, gently touching one another. “Whispering Pines.” It was like watching poetry. “Listen.” She cut a glance at Mick. “When the wind blows, the trees make a shh sound, like they’re tellin’ secrets.”
“Whispering Pines.” He rubbed the sharp turn of his jaw. “I like it.”
Vera’s heart swelled at his approval. His magnetic smile drew her gaze to him, almost overpowering her defenses. She hadn’t missed the softness in his touch when he’d helped her to her feet a moment ago, harnessing his strength as if she were a treasure to be handled delicately. A couple days ago, it would’ve insulted her, but the kindness in his expression unraveled something inside her. Enough to make her brain jostle. So much she could almost hear it rattling. Wait, that sound came from outside her.
“Vera.” Mick’s tone held a serious edge. “Don’t move. There’s a snake behind you.”
CHAPTER 17
The rattler blended into a pile of leaf litter, its beige body coiled and fanged head lifted, poising to strike.
About four feet separated the snake from Vera. Mick had a clear aim of the serpent, but—Lord, help him—he had to shoot between her legs to kill it.
“Stay still.” Mick locked his gaze on Vera’s panic-stricken eyes and inched his fingers toward his gun.
“Can I run for it?” Vera’s voice was as shaky as Mick’s confidence.
He had only one shot. If he missed, the spooked snake would surely launch at her. “No. You’re in striking distance. You won’t be quick enough.”
With slow movements, he unholstered his gun. He’d never claimed to be a sharpshooter but today, he had to be. Vera’s haunted gaze fused to his gun, and her eyes pinched shut.
“Don’t move. I’m shooting between your legs.”
Fear ravaged her face, blanching her complexion, twisting her mouth. Perhaps it was a good thing her back faced the venomous reptile. Its black, forked tongue flicked the air, and slit pupils sized up Mick, challenging him to a duel of deadly proportions.
Holding still, except for a bead of sweat coursing his temple, Mick drew a steadying breath. Like a finger’s snap, he withdrew the gun and fired.
The snake’s head flopped to the ground, and Mick exhaled his relief.
With a shriek, Vera sprang toward him, half tripping, half charging like a linebacker. She smacked flush into his chest. Her fingernails bit into his shoulders as she clung to him.
He holstered his gun with one hand and ran his other over the back of her head, hoping to soothe. Mick wasn’t the best at calming frantic females. Her frame visibly shook. Offering gentle words, he pressed his palm to her tense back, anchoring her against him.
He eyed the snake. Still dead.
Man, he disliked—no, hated—killing wildlife. Especially when men like Hewitt Chambers had worked for years to rebuild this forest’s depleted habitat to what it was no
w. But he’d had no choice.
Vera tipped her head back, glancing up at him with eyes dewed with unshed tears. “That was close.” Her gaze traveled from his to the gun at his hip. “I never thought I’d be thankful for a pistol.”
And Mick was thankful he’d been able to lodge the bullet between the rattler’s eyes. Otherwise, this would’ve all ended differently. “Came in handy” was all he could say. Truth was, it’d take him the whole evening to get his heart rate normal.
She tossed a look over her shoulder. Her gaze landed on the bloodied snake, and her rigid frame responded with a shiver.
“Thank you, Mick.” She turned to face him, the deep-green of her eyes more vivid than the bed of ferns surrounding her. With a delicate smile, she eased away from him, his body now void of the warmth hers provided.
Oh brother.
Trust shone in her expression, but Mick couldn’t let out a victory whoop because something else stirred in his heart. Something he would never acknowledge. “Let’s get back to the cabin.”
“No!”
Vera shot up in her bed, clutching her sheet to her chest. Was that a man’s yell or a crazed night owl?
“Stop!” Mick’s voice penetrated her ears.
She sucked in air.
An intruder!
Panic strangled her chest, forcing her breath to snag in her lungs. Darkness shrouded the room. The shadows mocked her blurry eyes.
Was Carson here? Or his thugs? Was Mick hurt? Alarm coursed her veins as she fumbled out of bed. Her foot caught in a fold in the sheet, sending her to the floor with a thud. If the intruder hadn’t known where she was, he did now.
Trapped.
If she jumped out the window, she’d break a leg and still get caught. At least braving the hall would give her a fighting chance. She grabbed the plank of wood Mick had used to brace the window open.
A pain-filled groan made her toes curl against the cool floor. Mick needed her. If he could take on a rattler for her sake, she sure could try to wallop any intruder. With the board raised like a baseball bat, she crept to her bedroom door that was cracked only an inch and nudged it open with her foot.
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