Dangerous Legacy

by Valerie Hansen

  It didn’t matter what happened from here on out.

  Hope had died.

  TWENTY

  It was quiet and dull at Maggie’s after Ira and Flint left with the sheriff, giving her far too much thinking time. She considered visiting her pastor to talk about what had happened, and perhaps would, eventually. First, she’d start by visiting Faye.

  To say that her mother was glad to see her was an understatement. After a moment’s hesitation she grabbed Maggie and Mark in a bear hug and held on for ages. When she finally let go, her cheeks were bathed in tears.

  Swiping at them, Faye apologized. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m so weepy when I should be laughing and dancing around.”

  “Welcome to the tissue club,” Maggie said wryly. “Lately I seem to cry all the time, happy or sad.”

  “That’s nerves, honey,” her mother said. She smiled at Mark and his constant furry companion. “So, how are our boys?”

  “Those two are fine.” Maggie made a face. “I haven’t seen hide nor hair of Flint since he arrested his own papaw.”

  “I heard about that from Harlan’s wife, Wanda. How sad for all of them.” She brightened. “At least, with the old feuding out of the way for good, you and Flint can get back together again.”

  “I wish.” Maggie watched to make sure her son was busy playing with Wolfie before she explained. “It was as if something changed between us when he confronted Ira. He was okay with taking out Elwood, probably because it was self-defense, but handling his own kin was different. He was gentle with him and all that. He just acted odd about everything else.”

  “Why didn’t your dog bite that nasty old man when he showed up?”

  “Because he’d planned ahead, baited Wolfie, and shut him in one of the big pens in the compound. Once my watchdog was out of the way, he just came to the door. Mark opened it and the rest is history.”

  “But why come after you? What reason did he give?”

  That question made Maggie huff. “He accused me of stealing his precious grandson, which I would love to do, by the way. Once he looked closely at Mark and saw the resemblance, he thought Mark was Flint, as a child.”

  “Oh, my. What did Mark do?”

  Maggie smiled fondly at the memory. “He hugged Ira and patted him on the back to comfort him. If it had happened under any other circumstances, it would have been darling.”

  “Have you told Mark who his daddy is?”

  “No. Why?”

  Faye nodded. “Because he’s a smart cookie. If he hasn’t already put two and two together, he soon will. And when he does he’s going to wonder why you and his father don’t live together.”

  “Maybe not. Considering how many split homes and combined families there are these days, he may take it in stride.”

  “What about you? Are you going to accept it?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I want if Flint isn’t interested.”

  “Who says he isn’t?”

  “He as good as told me so when he made himself so scarce. For a guy who was underfoot all the time, he’s sure managed to duck me lately.”

  “Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move,” Faye suggested. “Let me tell you a little story.”

  “Now?” Maggie rolled her eyes. “I have a headache and I haven’t slept well since all this started.”

  “Sit,” Faye ordered, gesturing at the kitchen table. “I want to tell you about the man who was almost your father.”

  “My what?” Plunking down in one of the kitchen chairs she rested her chin in her hands, elbows on the table.

  “Your father. Perhaps someday to become your stepfather if I have my way,” Faye said with a shy smile. “I was madly in love with Les Crawford when I was young. My father being a Witherspoon, my parents forbade me to date Les.”

  “You did what they said?”

  “Absolutely. Those were different times. Most kids obeyed their parents. At least I did. Les went away just like Flint did, only we’d never had a chance to grow close, and I married Frank Morgan. End of story.”

  Maggie reached for her mother’s hands and held them tightly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It wasn’t a bad marriage, although your father could be too stern at times and taught your brothers to act the same, as you well know.”

  “What did you mean by stepfather?”

  Faye’s smile became a grin. “I found Les. Called him. He’s single, too, and we’ve met a few times, out of town of course. He’s a lovely man. Mature and sweet. I didn’t realize how lonely I was until I invited him back into my life.”

  A deep breath preceded a noisy sigh. “I’m happy for you, Mom. I really am. But what does that have to do with me and Flint?”

  “Ha! I’ve been a doormat all my life. You’re a strong-willed, sensible, modern woman and you’re asking me?”

  “I need to go find Flint, huh? Then what?”

  “If you’re half as self-assured as I think you are, you’ll know what to do.”

  “I would if he was an injured raccoon,” Maggie said with a nervous giggle.

  Faye laughed with her. “I probably wouldn’t tell him that right off.”

  “I won’t. If he’s not in the Game and Fish district office, I’ll track him down. Will you watch Mark for me?”

  “My pleasure. I froze some cookies I made just for him, waiting until you finally forgave me.”

  “That wasn’t nearly as hard for me as it’s going to be for Flint to get over missing out on seeing his son be born and grow.”

  “If he loves you, he’ll forgive you.”

  “From your lips to God’s ears.” Maggie picked up her purse and headed for the door. “Feel free to pray for me. A lot.”

  * * *

  Flint was just leaving the Mammoth Spring office when he spotted a familiar truck pulling into the lot. His spirits gave a little start, then sank like a rock in a pool of black water.

  “Well, if she wants to tell me how terrible my family is, now’s as good a time as any to take it,” he murmured.

  By the time she’d parked and gotten out of her pickup he was standing nearby. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” Maggie said, smiling slightly and looking nervous. Flint could understand that. After all, they were going to eventually have to work out some kind of fair visitation between him and his son. Negotiations like that would make anybody edgy.

  Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, he struck a nonchalant pose by leaning against the stone-covered front wall of the building. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, thanks.”

  “You haven’t had any more trouble? The boy’s okay?”

  “Yes, and yes,” Maggie replied, “although he’s bound to start asking leading questions about you and Ira soon. I’ve managed to distract him so far, but that trick will only work for a while.”

  “Understood. You’re preparing for one Why after another?”

  She chuckled under her breath and her cheeks bloomed a rosy pink. “Exactly. I plan to tell him everything appropriate for his age. It’s only fair.”

  “Good. Keep me posted so I don’t make any mistakes when I do get to visit him.” To his surprise, she started to come closer. He would have backed up if he hadn’t already had his back against the wall—in more ways than one.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Maggie began.

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Don’t make up your mind before you hear my ideas.”

  Flint wasn’t convinced, particularly when she came even closer. Nevertheless, he said, “Go ahead.”

  She placed her hands on his shoulders, causing him to stand away from the wall. He tried to figure out what she was thinking by studying her expression, but all he was getting was what looked like joy, temper
ed with a tinge of fear. That made no sense at all. She had nothing more to fear. The principals of the old feud were either dead or out of commission, and any suspicions regarding Abigail Dodd’s relatives had been laid to rest by Ira’s full confession.

  “I made a list, in my mind,” Maggie said very softly. “I just can’t decide what to do first.”

  Figuring she was planning to blame him for either not suspecting Ira soon enough or lying about it to protect him, Flint said, “Follow your instincts and you’ll be fine. I can take it.”

  “Can you? Let’s see.”

  There was a fresh twinkle in Maggie’s blue eyes. She linked her fingers behind his neck, stood on tiptoe and pulled him closer for a kiss.

  It didn’t take Flint long to respond. Surprise was replaced by affection in the blink of an eye. His arms encircled her and he gave her the kind of special kiss he’d been saving for years.

  When they finally came up for air he said, “Whew. If that was plan A, I can hardly wait for B.”

  Keeping her hands on his shoulders, she grinned and blushed. “One thing at a time. Do you still love me?”

  “Is that a trick question?”

  “Yes. If you say you do, you get a prize. Me.”

  “Then yes, I do. I thought you’d be through with me once you saw who had been trying to shoot you.”

  “And shoot you,” she added. “I take it that was because he thought you were still a kid.”

  “From time to time he apparently did,” Flint said solemnly. “At other times he knew I’d grown up, but that was when he believed I was trying to steal his farm. I suspect it was his guilt over what he’d done to Elwood years ago that brought such a thing to mind.”

  “It’s over,” Maggie said. “All of it. Behind us.”

  “Can we start over?” He was almost afraid to ask.

  “No,” she said, grinning.

  Flint thought his heart was going to break before she added, “We have to pick up where we left off. Mark needs his daddy and I love you, Warden Crawford. I never stopped. I may have been mad at you when I thought you’d forgotten me, but I still loved you. With all my heart.”

  He would gladly have stood there for the rest of his life to listen to Maggie admitting her love.

  “I never stopped loving you, either,” Flint said softly as he caressed her cheek. “That was why it hurt so badly when I thought you’d had another man’s child.” His grin spread. “Now that I’ve met Mark I can see it wouldn’t have mattered. I’d have loved him because he was yours.”

  “Well, it probably doesn’t hurt that he’s the image of you,” she quipped. “Why don’t we go pick him up and go for ice cream while we tell him who you are?”

  Flint was more than thrilled. He was so overcome with peace and joy he was nearly speechless. After stealing one more kiss he took Maggie’s hand and asked her, “Can we tell him his mama and daddy are finally getting married?”

  “Are we ready for that?” she asked.

  “I won’t rush you.” Flint cupped her elbow and guided her to his official vehicle. “Let’s leave your truck here and take mine, for now. We have a lot to talk about. We’re not the same two people who talked about getting married six years ago.”

  To his relief, Maggie laughed. “Mercy no. I would hope we’re a whole lot smarter now. I sure am.”

  * * *

  By the time they reached Faye’s house to get Mark, there was a strange car in the driveway. Maggie delayed going inside until she’d told Flint about Les, his distant cousin who resided in Mountain Grove, Missouri, and her mother’s notions about renewing their romance.

  “Must be something in the water,” Flint gibed. “It’s a regular epidemic.”

  “Wait for me right here, okay? I don’t want Mom to find out what we’re planning for Mark and try to participate. We’ll let her answer his questions later.”

  “Okay. Don’t be long.”

  She leaned over to kiss him quickly and ended up lingering. That did, however, encourage her to hurry back with their son. They piled into the truck with Mark in the middle and Wolfie taking up residence in the rear passenger section among Flint’s gear.

  “I want vanilla with sprinkles and cookie pieces,” the boy said instead of hello.

  “That sounds good.” Flint looked to Maggie. “No booster seat. Will he be safe?”

  “As big as he’s getting, yes,” she said. “We’re not going far and we can belt him in where he sits.

  “We want to talk to you, honey,” she said to the boy as she fastened his seat belt. “It’s about your daddy.”

  The child’s green gaze immediately rose to capture Flint’s. “He’s cool. I like him.”

  If she hadn’t seen Flint’s jaw drop, she might not have realized hers had, too. Recovering, she asked, “Did Mamaw tell you?”

  “Naw.” Mark looked very pleased with himself. “I figured it out when that grandpa guy called me his name.”

  “Ira is my mother’s grandfather,” Flint said. “I’m sorry he scared you and your mom.”

  “He was okay. Kinda sad,” Mark offered. “Is he gonna be okay? He didn’t look so good.”

  “He’ll probably have to go into a special place to live but not jail.”

  “That’s good. Maybe we can go visit him sometime.”

  Maggie swelled with pride in her son’s tender heart. “Maybe we can. I think he’d like to see you again.”

  “Hmm. Maybe I should have chocolate instead,” the boy muttered. He brightened. “Yeah. I want chocolate ice cream this time.”

  She looked to Flint and caught his attention. “I guess we’re done talking about you being Mark’s father.”

  “Apparently.”

  Maggie was so relieved she didn’t know what to say or do. All her worries about how Mark would react to meeting his real father had been for nothing. The good Lord had prepared the child’s heart and brought Flint into his life in a way that made the transition seamless. She was about to offer praise and thanks when Mark spoke again.

  “So, when’s the wedding?”

  “We haven’t decided yet,” Maggie answered.

  Both adults broke into laughter when the boy asked, “Why?”

  EPILOGUE

  Faye made a beautiful blushing bride. So did Maggie. They’d planned to link arms at the rear of the Serenity Chapel sanctuary and walk forward together—until Mark had wiggled between them and taken each by the hand.

  “I’m gettin’ a daddy,” he announced proudly as he escorted his mother and grandmother to the altar.

  “And a grandpa,” Faye whispered aside.

  He grinned from ear to ear and bellowed, “And a grandpa.”

  Maggie almost lost control and laughed aloud. As it was, she knew her shoulders were shaking with mirth, and if she hadn’t had a bouquet to help hide her face, she figured she’d have burst into hysterics. It still might happen. She did that when she was keyed up and happy, which she certainly was.

  Flint waited with Les Crawford and Pastor Malloy. They all looked handsome, but Maggie had eyes for only her groom. Despite all the times she’d imagined what her wedding would be like, she had never experienced such a rush of love and unbridled joy.

  The four participants had tried to limit the number of guests, eventually giving up and issuing an open invitation via the newspaper and church bulletin. The only person Maggie knew Flint would have liked to see attend and who could not was his great-grandfather, Ira. Bess had been given a position of honor in the front row, however, and was dabbing at her eyes with a hankie.

  Maggie never took her eyes off Flint from the moment she first saw him waiting for her. She hardly noticed when she and Faye reached the end of the aisle and stopped.

  Pastor Malloy stepped forward with dignity and
asked, “Who gives these women to be married to these men?”

  Mark let go of the brides, lifted both arms into the air like a winning prizefighter and shouted, “I do!”

  The ceremony came to a halt while pastor and guests, brides and grooms doubled over with laughter and blotted happy tears. It was about time.

  * * * * *

  If you liked this story of romance and suspense,

  pick up these other books

  by top author Valerie Hansen

  from her long running series THE DEFENDERS

  NIGHTWATCH

  THREAT OF DARKNESS

  STANDING GUARD

  A TRACE OF MEMORY

  SMALL TOWN JUSTICE

  Available now from Love Inspired Suspense!

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  Keep reading for an excerpt from IN A KILLER’S SIGHTS by Sandra Robbins

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  Dear Reader,

  Although we enter this world at birth without malice, our experiences shape us more than we imagine. And if we happen to be born into a family with secrets and prejudices, we have to fight hard to keep them from adversely affecting us. This is what happened to the Crawford and Witherspoon families. Later generations were still paying for the mistakes of a few, which is really sad—and needless. Hatred is self-destructive, as Ira and Elwood learned in this story. We can’t go back and “fix” things in the past the way we would like, but we can put all that behind us and go forward, free and forgiven. This is where God and Jesus come in. The offer is open. Divine forgiveness is waiting. Our children deserve the example we set when we pardon those who have wronged us. And we deserve the joy that comes from letting go.

  Whew! That was profound. Sometimes I surprise myself. I pray you will be blessed by my books and by your own life. I can be reached at PO Box 13, Glencoe, AR 72539, but a much faster reply is guaranteed if you email val@valeriehansen.com. My website is www.valeriehansen.com, and I have a couple of Facebook pages, too. The main one is www.Facebook.com/valerie.whisenand.