Flint didn’t have to consult his notes to know who she meant. “He’s the youngest, right?”
“Right. Robbie seems different. He’s smart and pretty sensible, considering how he was raised. If any of the boys are redeemable, he is.”
“Getting back to your uncle. What do you know about his hunting activities?” The somber look on her face told him she was aware of the man’s reputation.
“He’s always been a subsistence hunter,” Maggie said. “At his age nobody’s likely to change him.” She hesitated as if making a decision, then went on. “If it hadn’t been for Ira Crawford, my uncle would have lived a very different life. Just keep that in mind.”
He scowled. “What are you talking about?”
“You must know the story. Ira stole Elwood’s fiancée and his farm.”
“That’s ridiculous. He did nothing of the kind.”
“Ask him.”
“I will,” Flint snapped back at her. But would he? Was it wise to rile the confused old man any more than he already had? The best recourse was probably to ask Bess, if he could do it casually. He certainly didn’t want her to think he believed the impossible rumors that had circulated for generations. The more often those stories were retold, the more fantastic and unbelievable they became, until most folks totally rejected any hidden truths.
Staring at Maggie and noting her set jaw and raised chin, Flint figured he’d better back off before he made her so mad she tried to keep him away from his son. “So, is the coffee ready?”
He almost burst into laughter when her eyes widened in surprise. “Coffee?”
“Yes. Coffee. I distinctly recall being offered a cup.”
To her credit she recovered quickly and crossed the room. “It’s done. So, where do we stand on Sunday morning? I’ll need to know how much pizza to order.”
“Why don’t you let me take care of the food while you and Faye look after Mark?”
Although she seemed surprised, she nevertheless agreed. “Okay. Mom and I like the supreme and Mark likes sausage. No mushrooms on his unless you want to listen to him wail.”
“Got it.”
Flint accepted the steaming mug she handed him and took a seat at the oak table. As soon as Maggie joined him he said, “So, what was so scary you sent the boy away? I’d have thought you’d do that right after the prowler incident.”
“Like I said, I should have. But first I had to admit to myself that I wasn’t invincible.”
“And now?” Sipping coffee for something to do, he waited for her answer.
She said, “I need all the help I can get.”
“Mine, too, I hope.”
When she nodded and added, “Especially yours,” Flint hid his grin behind the coffee mug and silently thanked the Lord for answered prayer. It wasn’t always easy to see the good things that emerged from bad situations, but in this case he figured he did.
Circumstances had created a need, and he had arrived just in time to fill it. Doing so was bringing him back into Maggie’s life and therefore into his son’s. The sequence of events was pretty amazing.
And still dangerous, he reminded himself. It was all well and good to act the part of their protector—as long as he was successful. Failure was unthinkable.
* * *
Maggie had chosen a favorite, long-skirted dress with a crocheted shrug for Sunday. Deciding on shoes had been harder. She’d reasoned that heels would make it more difficult to run, so she’d stuck to flats.
That somber choice was disquieting. Here she was, ready for church, family and friends, yet she was still thinking about being able to flee. Her adversaries had done that to her and she didn’t like it one bit.
Well, at least Mark would be spared her angst for a while. She’d made up her mind to let the boy stay with Faye a little longer. Mark could walk to school from her mother’s house, but Faye, bless her heart, always insisted on driving him. Now that the weather was turning harsh, it was just as well anyway. But, oh, Maggie missed him.
A grin split her face as she left her truck and headed toward the front of Serenity Chapel. There was her darling little boy, his hand held fast by his grandma to keep him from running to her across the busy parking lot. Faye waved. Maggie waved back, hurrying.
Then she saw him. Flint had come. But he wasn’t standing with her mother and the boy, he was positioned next to one of the pillars that held up the overhang. His posture was stiff, his eyes scanning the lot as each vehicle arrived, and even though he wasn’t in uniform he looked in total command.
Maggie greeted her mother and scooped up Mark, balancing him on her hip before approaching Flint.
“Good morning.”
He nodded slightly. “Morning.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Since about seven. Why?”
“That was what I was going to ask. Why?”
“Because it’s the best way to be sure your relatives don’t sneak in and cause trouble.”
Maggie had to smile. “The church does have a security system. We lock the outside doors and volunteers watch for late arrivals.”
“That won’t do much good unless somebody looks dangerous and doesn’t get let in. You and I know who to look out for, so I figured I’d watch.”
“Thank you, but I really don’t think it’s necessary to stand guard duty. Why don’t you come inside with us?”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “You’re not afraid the roof will fall in?”
“I’ll take my chances. Everybody’s seen you out here as they drove by, so it won’t exactly be a surprise.”
“True. Pastor Malloy stuck his head out to greet me. I’m glad he’s still here. He’s a good preacher.”
“Yes, he is. He really helped me after...” She glanced at Mark. “You know.”
Flint was diverted long enough to tousle the boy’s hair. “Hi, buddy. How’s that mean old dog of yours?”
“He’s not mean,” Mark insisted.
“Just joking. Is his foot better?”
The child looked to his mother, so Maggie answered, “Much. I took the bandage off to let it breathe and it’s healing well.”
“Yeah,” Mark said happily.
“I’m glad.”
“Mom’s working in the nursery today,” Maggie said. “Come sit with us?”
“Doesn’t Mark go with other kids?”
“Usually, we all come to Sunday school, but today we got a late start.” She arched her eyebrows and met Flint’s gaze, hoping he’d understand that she was really saying they’d decided to minimize the threat by limiting their time in public.
Judging by the wise look he returned, he got the picture. “And that’s why you’re taking the pizza home afterward?”
“Yes.”
“Smart.”
“We thought so.” She started to turn, the child still balanced on one hip. “Come on. My passenger’s getting heavy.”
Flint held out his arms. “I can carry him for you.”
She almost refused—would have if the tender expression on Flint’s face had not touched her heart. When Mark put his arms out for Flint to take him, she gave in and relinquished the boy. “May as well. He looks more like you than he does me anyway.”
As she finished speaking she noticed that Mark had been paying more attention than she’d expected. Uh-oh. He and Flint were staring into each other’s eyes as if meeting for the first time.
“That’s because we’re both such handsome guys,” Flint said, breaking eye contact. “Right, buddy?”
Mark giggled and hid his face against the shoulder of his father’s sport jacket.
It was all Maggie could do to keep her tears at bay. All the rationalizing in the world was not enough to negate the guilt she felt for keeping t
hese two apart.
Therefore, she had to figure out who was causing all the trouble and threatening their very lives. She simply had to. Because, one way or another, she was going to make sure her little boy got to know his real father the way he deserved to.
A shiver shot up her spine. She rapidly checked over both shoulders, seeing no problem. Was there one, or was she merely a victim of her own wayward imagination?
She hurried to match Flint’s longer stride as he carried Mark into the sanctuary. “Let’s sit in the corner over there,” she said, touching his arm lightly and pointing. “We can see all the doors and nobody can get behind us.”
“Now you’re thinking sensibly,” he said.
Maggie saw no reason to tell him she was keyed up. They all were, and for their own good. A complacent animal was easy prey. Clueless people were, too. They had to be on edge to keep their wits sharp and their senses honed.
Settling herself in the pew, she waited until Flint had placed Mark between them, then said, “I’ve changed my mind. I want you to teach me to shoot.”
He arched an eyebrow. “What brought that on?”
“Rabbits,” Maggie said, seeing him stifle a grin.
“Rabbits? Okay...”
“Think about it. They have no natural defenses except to run and hide from predators. I’m tired of being like them. I want some teeth and claws of my own so I can fight back.”
“I’m not sure that’s the right attitude. Aggression can get you into trouble.”
“So can freezing like a deer caught in a car’s headlights.”
“Speaking of that, how’s your latest patient?”
“Fine. Don’t try to change the subject.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. When do you want these lessons?”
She leaned closer to speak over Mark’s head while he busied himself pretending to read the Sunday bulletin. “Soon as possible.” She eyed the boy. “I’m going to let Mom keep taking care of him for a while, so now would be a good time.”
“How about this evening?”
It suddenly occurred to Maggie that she’d invited the love of her life to visit her at home while she was alone. Not the smartest thing she’d ever done. It was, however, the best opportunity for her to practice shooting, so she agreed.
“Fine. After we eat at Mom’s I’ll go on home to do my chores and you can drop by. Any time before dark will be fine. I have a .38 revolver that was Dad’s. I’ve never shot it. He tried to teach me before he got so sick, but I was too afraid.”
“If you find you’re still scared, we’ll have to do something else to help you feel safe, like maybe get you a Taser,” Flint said. “Nobody should try to handle a gun unless they’re confident and capable.”
“I’ve changed a lot since I was a kid,” Maggie countered. “There is nothing I can’t do once I set my mind to it.”
Flint looked down at the well-behaved child between them and smiled. “I believe you.”
TWELVE
The leisure time Flint shared with his son and the women flew by. If he’d had his choice, Maggie would not have insisted on going home alone. She stubbornly rejected the idea of letting him accompany her even though her own mother urged it.
“All I’m going to do is my usual chores, just like every other day. Wolfie will warn me if there’s a problem.”
“And chase off a dangerous pack of wolves?” Faye asked.
“If necessary. Flint never did find any sign of predators when Wolfie got hurt, so there’s a good chance there never were any. Everybody knows a trapper like Elwood can make animal noises better than most animals can. I sure wouldn’t put it past him to do it to scare me. Or to try to stir up trouble.”
“That would explain the boot prints I found,” Flint said. “Is he likely to have doctored your dog for you?”
Maggie said, “No” without hesitation. “But Robbie might have.” She made a silly face. “And, no, I did not put him up to tying Wolfie to a tree so one of the Witherspoons could shoot a Crawford, okay?”
“I never really thought you did. I was just...”
“Mad at me. I know. You had good reason.” She paused, checking to make sure her son was playing with the dog instead of listening. “But try to see it from my side. You left Serenity without a word and I didn’t hear from you afterward. Why should I have tried to find you to tell you about Mark?”
Scowling, Flint looked first at Faye, then back to Maggie. “I left you a note. And I wrote letters, at least in the beginning.”
“You never.”
“Ask your mother.”
Both of them faced Faye, whose cheeks and nose had turned the color of a bad sunburn. “It wasn’t my doing.”
“Mother!”
Teary-eyed and wringing her hands, Faye tried to explain. “You know how your father could be. He was as hateful as the rest of my kin—and he’d only married into our feud. Everybody kept insisting that you were better off without Flint. After a while I guess I started to believe it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You and Mark filled a terrible void in my life after Frank died, and I knew if I fessed up you were liable to leave me all alone.”
“I don’t believe this.” Looking stunned, Maggie turned to Flint. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were glad to be rid of me.”
“You couldn’t have asked me?”
“How? I knew you’d joined the service, but that was all. I didn’t even know which branch at first.”
“Bess and Ira did. You could have approached them.”
“With a baby in my arms? That would have gone over like a lead balloon. Besides, what makes you think they’d have told me?”
“Bess would have, at least back then. Now I’m not so sure. Ira has turned into a mean old cuss since I’ve been gone. And she tends to back him up, even if he’s wrong.”
“I’m sorry about that, too,” Maggie said, “but at least his failings brought you back.”
“There is that.” Flint smiled. “Romans 8:28?”
“Yes. ‘All things work together for good for those who love God and are called according to His purpose.’” Making a face, Maggie gathered up her purse and called to Mark. “Come on, honey. Time to go.”
Flint put out a hand. “Hold it. I thought you were going to leave him here.”
“That was when I thought I could trust my own mother,” Maggie replied. She smiled at him. “Why don’t you just follow us home and spend the rest of the day? I’m sure we can work out a way to practice gun handling safely. After all, I’ll have to keep the gun in an accessible place as soon as I’m sure of myself.”
He helped her on with her jacket, then did the same for his son. Such simple kindnesses, yet they made him feel so good, almost as if he were part of a real family. That was the kind of closeness that had been missing in his life ever since he was a kid. Great-grandparents Bess and Ira had given him a home, yes, but they had never made him feel as if he belonged. Although that was probably at least partially due to their disappointment in both his mother and grandmother, it didn’t make up for the emotional alienation.
Perhaps that was what had drawn him to Maggie so strongly. She had a loving heart, the kind that had led her to care for helpless animals when she could have made a lot more money doing just about anything else.
He followed as Maggie led the way to the door. Mark was in her arms, waving goodbye. Faye just stood there with both hands clamped over her mouth as if trying to hold back sobs. Yes, he felt sorry for the older woman. Anybody would. But there was more to his feelings than that. Hiding the truth just to have her own way had cost Faye dearly, and she was now paying for those lies.
And she wasn’t the only one. The pain and astonishment in Maggie’s expression when she’d learned about his le
tters had proven her innocence without a doubt. Too bad he had accused her of lying about his efforts to contact her when she was the one who had been lied to.
Flint followed her and Mark out onto the porch and slipped his arm around her shoulders when she seemed to falter. “Are you okay?”
Maggie shook her head. “No. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.” Her lower lip was quivering.
Flint tightened his hold and she turned into his embrace, holding their son as the third side of the triangle.
Mark instinctively put his little arms around his parents’ necks. “Don’t cry, Mama.”
When she didn’t answer, Flint began to stroke her silky hair, meaning only to comfort and belatedly realizing how much he’d wanted to touch her ever since the first moment he saw her again.
This embrace was different from the temporary closeness they’d shared after her accident. This was all of them together. His family. There might never be a legal binding, but that wouldn’t change his certainty that the three of them belonged together.
They always had.
* * *
Maggie was torn between the knowledge that her heavenly Father expected her to forgive Faye and a terrible sense of betrayal. All this time she’d been blaming Flint for deserting her and he hadn’t done so. Little wonder he’d been so angry when he first saw Mark.
Laying her cheek against Flint’s shoulder, she fought to regain her self-control. It did no good to keep telling herself to pull away when this was exactly where she wanted to be. In his arms. Close enough to pretend they had never been estranged or belonged to extended families that hated each other. Ha! That would be the day.
Now that she knew what had happened between Ira and Elwood all those years ago, she couldn’t see any solution short of moving away and changing her name. Come to think of it, that wasn’t such a bad idea.
She eased back to look up at Flint and almost came undone again when she saw the glint of unshed tears in his emerald eyes. The poor man was suffering and it was all her fault.
Instead of commiserating, she decided to try to lighten the mood by sharing her random thoughts. “I think I’d like to be Maggie Gilhooley. How does that sound?”
Dangerous Legacy Page 11
