He frowned. “What?”
“When we change our names and escape from this crazy town,” Maggie explained. Eyes widening, she went on. “No. Mulrooney. That sounds better with Maggie. Maggie Mulrooney. What do you think?”
“I think you’ve had a rough day and maybe OD’d on pizza.” He shifted to stand beside her and ushered her to her truck. “Get in. I’ll follow you home.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.” The snap decision was so right it made her heart swell. “First you need to take the booster seat out of my truck and put it in yours so Mark can ride with you.”
“Really?”
The child cheered. “Yeah!”
“Okay, if you say so,” Flint agreed. “Give me a second to stow the laptop and move the rest of my gear to make room.”
As Maggie stood by with their son, she sensed a growing peace. Much of her world was in upheaval, yet she had just taken the first step toward making things right. There was no way to go back and change the past, of course, but she could begin to foster healing.
“There. All set,” Flint said, straightening and holding out his arms. “Ready, Mark?”
“Yeah. Can I blow the siren?”
“How about just the lights for now? We can save the siren for a better time.”
His little mouth puckered, but he conceded. “Oh, okay.”
Maggie had to smile at the exchange. It looked as if Mark had met his match. So had Flint. They were so alike it was amazing. And equally stubborn. Not that Mark had inherited any traits like that from her.
The boy was seated and buckled in before she turned toward her truck. And froze. A noisy International pickup was cruising by in the street. It was red. And rusty.
She spun and raced back to Flint, pointing and waving her arms. “There! Look!”
By the time he paid attention to her frantic gestures, it was too late. The truck was gone.
“Did you see that?”
“See what?”
“Elwood’s truck. It just drove by. If you hurry, maybe you can catch him.”
Flint eyed his son. “Not with Mark along. Did you see which way he was headed?”
“Downtown.”
“Okay. Stick with me. I’ll cruise that way before we head out to your place. But no car chases. Promise?”
“Promise. Do you think he’s stalking us?”
“Let’s try to find out.”
* * *
Flint took extra care traveling through town. So far, Maggie was behaving herself. If the emotional upheaval they had both experienced was affecting her as much as it was him, he’d understand if she acted a little overwrought.
They were passing the town market. Flint heard a horn honk. Maggie was waving an arm out the window, obviously trying to get his attention, so he pulled over.
Parking right behind him, she jumped down and approached at a trot, pointing. “There. That’s his truck. He’s at the market.”
“All right. You get in with Mark and lock the doors while I go see.”
“Do you know what he looks like these days?”
“Close enough. I’ve seen mug shots of the two older grandsons, and from what we’ve gathered, Elwood looks pretty wild. He has a gray beard and messy, long hair.”
“Right. I’ve heard he’s really let himself go.” She reached for his arm. “Be careful.”
“I just want to talk to him. I can’t arrest him unless I can prove he’s been poaching.”
“Prove it? How?”
“By catching him in the act or finding too much deer meat in his freezer and a pile of discarded hide and antlers like the one I found on Nine Mile Ridge recently.”
“Wait! You can’t arrest him?”
“Not without good cause. Looking dangerous isn’t a crime.”
“Well, it should be.”
Flint waited until he was certain she’d locked the truck doors, then headed for the grocery store. Judging by so few cars, there weren’t many shoppers on Sunday.
Instead of entering the store and taking a chance of creating trouble inside, he leaned against the rusty old truck and waited. The two men who soon approached were scruffy but definitely not Elwood.
Flint smiled slightly and nodded a greeting. “Evening, boys. You must be Luke and Will.”
Luke, the taller of the two, scowled beneath the brim of a dirty baseball cap. “Who’s askin’?”
“Is this your grandpa’s truck?”
“I said, who’re you?”
Continuing to smile, Flint offered his hand. “I’m surprised you don’t recognize me.”
Will started to reach out to shake. His brother elbowed to stop him. “Don’t. It’s that new game warden.”
“Right you are.” Flint looked past them. “You two alone tonight?”
“What’s it to ya?”
“Just wondering. I’d really like to talk to Elwood.”
Both young men chuckled. Will muttered, “Yeah, I bet you would.”
“There’ll be no trouble as long as you stick to the rules,” Flint said amiably. “We all want the deer population to stay healthy. That’s why Game and Fish sets limits and seasons.”
“Don’t lecture us, Crawford,” Luke said with a sneer. “Witherspoons have been huntin’ these deer woods for a lot longer than you’ve been alive.”
“True. And we’re coming up on modern gun season, so I won’t be giving you any trouble about what weapons you choose. But I do need to warn you about taking too many bucks or shooting does.”
“Meat’s meat,” Luke countered. He shouldered Flint aside to yank open the driver’s door of the old truck while Will circled to the passenger side.
Flint tried to hand Luke a business card. “Have Elwood call me, will you? I’ll be glad to drive out to wherever he’s living and meet with him any time.”
The card fluttered to the pavement. Both young men were laughing as they drove away.
Flint jogged back across the street. Maggie stepped out, waiting by the open door of his truck. “How did it go?”
“As well as can be expected.”
“That good, huh?”
He realized she was trying to joke. “Almost.”
“Did they mention me?”
“Come to think of it, no,” Flint said, thoughtful. “Are you ready to head to the sanctuary?”
“Yes. Let’s get home while we still have daylight. I’ll do chores and you can check the house for me.”
“And then teach you to shoot?”
“Yes. I’ve actually handled a rifle a few times before. My dad showed me how. But that’s no guarantee I’ll know how to stay safe with a handgun. It’s not the same thing.”
“Precisely.”
“I hope you’re duly impressed with my sensible choices,” she said. “I’d hate to think you still see me as a silly teenager.”
“You were never silly,” Flint countered. “Stubborn, hardheaded and a lot prettier than you thought, but never silly.”
“Was that a compliment?”
“It was supposed to be.”
“Good. Let’s get out of here before those guys decide to come back and cause us trouble.”
* * *
“We can’t use the lights when we’re in traffic,” Flint told Mark. “Wait till we get to your driveway and we can do it again.”
“Why?”
“Because it will confuse other drivers.”
“Why?”
“Because lights are for emergencies.”
“Why?”
Studying the child’s impish expression, Flint realized he’d been had. As soon as he chuckled, Mark covered his mouth and began to giggle.
“Do
you do that to your mother, too?” Flint asked.
“Uh-huh. All the time. She says I’m smart.”
“She’s right.”
“Are you gonna marry her?”
It took Flint a couple of seconds to close his mouth and answer, “Why?” which triggered more giggles.
Mark sobered. “I think she likes you.”
“I like her, too.”
“That’s good, huh?”
Reaching over to pat his son on the knee, he said, “Yes. That’s very good.”
The boy suddenly seemed distracted. Flint had been keeping such a close eye on Maggie’s truck he’d failed to notice a column of smoke in the distance. When Mark pointed, it was clear.
Flint grabbed his phone. Maggie didn’t answer his call, but judging by the way she sped up she’d seen the smoke, too. He alerted the sheriff and fire department, then flipped on his lights and siren.
“Yeah! Can we go real fast, too, like Mama?”
“Maybe not quite that fast,” Flint said, “but we’ll get there. I want you to be safe.”
“I got my seat belt on. See?”
“Yes, but even a seat belt isn’t enough in a bad accident.”
Just when he thought he was having a sensible father-and-son conversation and imparting important knowledge, he heard a giggle. “Why?”
It did occur to Flint to actually explain, but he decided to save that for a later time. Right now his main goal had to be getting to Maggie’s and helping her put out the fire before she got herself hurt trying to be too brave. She would. He knew she would. When the health and safety of a helpless animal was at stake, there was no doubt.
With Mark cheering and the truck bouncing over the potholes in the dirt drive, they drew closer. Thankfully, the smoke wasn’t coming from the house, nor was there much fire out by the barn. That was a better scenario than he’d first expected.
“Okay,” Flint said, skidding to a stop and pulling his keys from the ignition. “You’ll be safe out here. Stay in the truck while I go help your mother. You hear?”
“Wh—” The child apparently noted his stern expression and stopped teasing. He bowed his head instead and said, “Okay.”
“Promise?”
“Uh-huh.”
Flint had no choice but to trust him. Hitting the ground running, he pushed the button on his key fob to lock the truck doors, then began to pray as he searched for Maggie.
All he could manage was a heartfelt “Please, Lord,” but he figured, under the circumstances, that was plenty.
THIRTEEN
Most of the pile of loose straw was smoldering while flames danced at the edges. Maggie grabbed a hose and began to wet down the bales behind the fire to keep it from spreading.
She heard Flint shout, “Fire department’s coming,” as he wielded a pitchfork to clear a path between the burning straw and her winter hay storage.
“Where’s Mark?” she screeched at him.
“In my truck.”
“Safe?”
“As safe as I could make him.”
“We need Wolfie,” she shouted back before throwing down the hose. “Have you got this?”
“Yeah. Go get the dog. I’ll finish here and then check the rest of the yard.”
In the panic of the moment, she hadn’t thought about anything but quenching the flames. Now that she was on the move, she realized Flint was right. Just because they’d put out one fire didn’t mean the danger was past.
Her house was supposed to be locked up tight, so when she found the rear door ajar it startled her. “Wolfie!”
The big dog crawled out from under the kitchen table and hurried to her, slightly favoring his cut paw.
Instead of entering the house, Maggie led him around to the front looking for the Game and Fish truck. Mark was on his knees, peering out a side window, but he’d stayed put despite the excitement. When he saw Maggie and their dog he scrunched up his face and burst into tears.
She gave the door handle a jerk. Nothing happened. “It’s locked, honey. You’ll have to open it from the inside.”
Mark was still shedding tears, but he shook his head.
“Come on, honey. It’s okay. Open the door.”
Still, the child resisted. Maggie began to scowl. “What’s the matter? Why can’t you open it?”
Mark pointed to where the smoke was dissipating. The truth struck her like a physical blow. He was obeying his father’s orders instead of listening to hers.
Calm down, she told herself. Get a grip. It’s not the end of the world.
But it was the end of her total control, she realized sadly. Not only was she going to have to share the raising of Mark, but she was going to have to adjust to having Flint in her life in a big, big way, like it or not. She’d coped alone for so long it had become second nature, yet when it came to defending herself and her child, she had to admit it was comforting to have an ally.
Speaking of whom... Flint was rounding the house, gun drawn, and looking every bit like a commando despite wearing church clothes. When he noticed her standing by his truck, she motioned and he unlocked the doors remotely.
“Did you leave the back door open?” he asked as she helped Mark down.
“No. That’s how I found it. I was really careful after that prowler incident. I know I locked everything before I left this morning.”
“Okay. You stay here so you can talk to the firefighters. I’ll circle around back to make sure nobody lights another fire.”
“The arsonists must be long gone,” Maggie insisted. She reached for his arm to stop him. “Wolfie was hiding under the kitchen table. If a stranger had been in or near the house, he wouldn’t have done that.”
“Suppose it was somebody he knew?” Flint argued. “Maybe cousin Robbie came back.”
“He’d never break into my house.” Maggie was certain of it. “Like I’ve said before, Elwood is a bad influence. Robbie’s okay, but...” She gasped. “Wait a minute. We saw Luke and Will in town. They couldn’t have gotten here, started this fire and escaped. We’d have seen them.”
She noted that Flint had stationed himself with his back to her and Mark, becoming a human shield. Sirens in the distance were not nearly as comforting as knowing that this man intended to defend her totally.
Touching his shoulder, Maggie said, “Thank you.”
“I’d normally say, ‘My pleasure,’ but that doesn’t fit this occasion.”
She mustered her courage. “What if Elwood is not the one responsible?”
“Then the sheriff and I will pin it on whoever is guilty.”
“It can’t be Robbie. He would never do anything to harm me.”
Beneath her soft touch she felt his shoulder stiffen. “Who else is there?” He turned.
“I don’t know, unless Abigail’s niece and nephew are still on the warpath. She’s been considering having the house redone and they may not want her to spend the money.”
“It makes no sense to burn it down.”
“Sure it does. No house, no expense. And probably no wild animal sanctuary, either.”
“Do you think they’d stoop to committing actual crimes?”
“They might. Greed is a great incentive.”
“True.”
“So is hatred,” Maggie went on. “Elwood isn’t the only one who might be nurturing that old grudge or be unhappy that you and I have been together so much. We’ve been concentrating on Witherspoons. How about broadening our suspicions to include Crawfords?”
“What?” The response was so harsh Mark hid behind his mother’s leg and Wolfie growled.
“You heard me.” She stood firm, chin raised. “Just because there aren’t many Crawfords left doesn’t mean they aren’t as angry as Elwood.”
<
br /> “The only ones left around here are my grandparents. Are you implying that a sweet old woman and a man who can barely remember how to tie his own shoes are out to get you just because of your lineage?” He huffed. “Now I’ve heard everything.”
Maggie backed down. “Ira’s that bad? I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Yeah, he’s that bad. He also thinks I’m trying to steal his farm from him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I overheard him ranting about it.”
“That’s interesting,” she said, watching the fire engine and a sheriff’s car stop next to her house and Flint hurry toward the men who were getting out.
It was probably for the best that this particular discussion was over. If it had continued, Maggie feared, she might have overstepped and suggested that Ira’s guilty conscience was making him imagine payback in kind for his long-ago sins.
That was half the trouble with holding grudges, she decided. The person who remained angry wasn’t the only one who suffered. Both sides did, as well as those around them who absorbed the rancor. What a waste. There was no telling how many lives had been ruined in the past or might be harmed in the future from Ira Crawford’s betrayal of his friends. Truth to tell, just because some of his and Elwood’s descendants weren’t vocal about their prejudices was no proof they were innocent. Considering the feud in that light greatly increased the suspect pool.
Maggie shivered as those details settled in her heart and mind. A good third of the town was related to one side or the other, which made a lot of her friends and acquaintances persons of interest.
That was scary.
* * *
It was late afternoon before the professionals on scene finished trading “war” stories and went their separate ways. The practice of unwinding after facing a tense situation was common and served to help fire and police alike to decompress. The same kind of kinship had occurred after combat missions. Reminiscing about his time in the service, however, was not something Flint enjoyed. He’d done his duty. As far as he was concerned, that part of his life was over.
He huffed. Yeah. Except that while he was away his family had been formed. Without him. If he’d even suspected that he’d be needed at home, he’d never have left.
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