by Karen Woods
“I am always careful.”
“Good. Stay that way.”
“What do you know that you aren’t telling me?” Maggie demanded.
“I’m not sure that I know anything.” Natalie looked over to make certain that the door was still firmly closed. “This is going to sound paranoid, or worse . . . .”
“Just tell me what’s on your mind,” Maggie said.
“I think, I can’t prove, but I think, that Hunt might have been in Intelligence.”
“Why do you think that?”
“I told you that this was going to sound paranoid,” Natalie replied.
“All I want to know is why you think that Hunt was a spook.”
“Haven’t you noticed? He doesn’t miss anything. He always knows what is going on around him. Even when he is relaxing, there is that edge of watchfulness surrounding him. Watch him some time. He moves almost too precisely.”
“That could be his martial arts training. If you look closely at me, you’ll see many of those same traits.”
“He knows John.”
“He told me that.”
Natalie bit her lip. “It’s more than a suspicion, Magpie. I overheard Chuck and Hunt talking two days ago. Neither of them knew that I was still awake. I’d come down to get something hot to drink. They were in the kitchen. Chuck made some comment to the effect that he was glad to see that Hunt’s quote super spy unquote days were firmly behind him. Hunt’s reply was that he had ‘done my duty, given Uncle Sam thirteen years of my life and now it is time for me to move on, while I am still young enough to make something good out of my life.’”
“I see . . . .” Maggie said, her voice scarcely more than a whisper.
“Magpie, who knows what he’s had to do in those years he worked for the government? He might be a killer,” Natty said.
“So, most of the people whom I knew as a child had been responsible for at least one death, during the course of duty,” Maggie replied quietly. “I’m sure my father had killed more than once. I know that Michael had done so during his younger years. Hunt, from what I’ve gathered is a businessman. If he had been involved in Intelligence, it would have probably been as a courier. Or if he was a covert operative, he must have been a good one.”
“This doesn’t bother you?” Natalie asked curiously.
“Why should it? I have a past. So does he. I haven’t told him everything about me. Why should I expect him to have told me all about his past?”
Natalie looked at her friend.
“Thank you for your concern, Natty.”
“But,” Natalie said, “You have to make up your own mind about him. Nothing I say is going to change your mind, is it?”
“Thanks for your concern. I don’t think that you have anything to worry about, Natty. But thanks for telling me this. It gives me a little more insight into the man.”
“You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”
“Let’s just say that he intrigues me,” Maggie offered in reply.
“Be careful, Magpie. You don’t know how many enemies that the man might have accumulated over the years.”
“Who hasn’t accumulated enemies?” Maggie asked wryly. Then she smiled at her friend. “He’s probably waiting for me.”
“Have a good time in Vermont. I wish that we were going with you. Chuck and I went up to the Inn two years ago. It’s beautiful up there this time of the year.”
“Why don’t you? Is there any reason that you can’t come along?”
Natty smiled. “I suppose that I could call Helen and see if she has a room available for Chuck and I. I know that Chuck would like to spend some time on the slopes. Now seems like as good of a time as any.”
A brief knock came at the door.
“Come,” Maggie invited.
Chuck opened the door. “I had the feeling that you would be in here, talking Maggie’s ear off, sweetheart.”
Natalie smiled as her husband came into the bedroom, followed by Hunt.
“Are you ready to head out?” Hunt asked.
“I suppose that I am as ready as I’ll ever be,” Maggie replied.
Chuck laughed. “Relax, will you? Helen and Hank don’t bite.”
“I don’t recall saying that they did.”
Chuck smiled at her. “I’ll take your bags down.”
“Thanks.”
“Come on, Natty,” Chuck urged.
Natalie and Chuck left the room, closing the door behind them.
Hunt crossed the room to stand just a few inches from her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. What’s the weather like between here and Vermont?”
“Cold and snowy.”
“Then we had better get going. Did you call your parents to tell them that we were coming?”
“I thought that I would surprise them.”
“Are you planning on telling them about the quote engagement unquote?”
Maggie asked quietly.
“I hadn’t planned on it,” Hunt said.
“Good. The less said about that, the better.”
Hunt shook his head and smiled. “I intend to marry you, Margaret Mary O’Shay. Try to get used to that idea.”
Maggie laughed. “Do you get everything that you want, Hunt?”
“Most of the time,” he answered.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Why are you coming with me?”
“Maybe I just like skiing?” she offered lightly.
Hunt touched her face, cupping her cheek in his hand. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would it?” Then his lips claimed hers.
Maggie laced her fingers through his hair, bringing him closer to her, while deepening the kiss.
“No,” she quietly lied, when she finally stepped back from him. “Nothing at all.”
Hunt smiled at her. “You know what I like about you, woman?”
“No, what do you like about me?” Maggie asked.
“You couldn’t lie your way out of a wet paper bag. Your face gives you away every time.”
Maggie laughed. “But, then, you haven’t seen me play poker.”
Hunt laughed boldly. “Come on, Maggie mine, we’ve got to get moving if we expect to be there by nightfall.”
The tall man cursed as he watched Hunt and Maggie drive off. He had watched Chuck load baggage into the back of the Jeep earlier. This would probably mean a change in plans, he thought as he put his car into gear and followed them.
Hunt hadn’t missed the small tan BMW that followed them from almost the moment they had left the Ferra’s. But, he didn’t remark on being followed to Maggie. There was no need to worry her. There was no telling who the driver of the car was. As long as there wasn’t any sort of threatening action taken by the man following them, Hunt wasn’t going to worry about it too much. But, neither was he going to ignore it. The more that he found out about Maggie O’Shay, the more that he stood convinced that her brother was correct in that Maggie needed a bodyguard.
“Absolutely not,” Chuck said strongly. “Maggie and Hunt deserve some time to get to know each other better without a lot of other people around to hide behind.”
Natalie looked at her husband with anger in her eyes. “I promised Maggie.”
“Tough. We aren’t going. First off, you have no business on the slopes in your condition. You might be willing to take a chance with your health, but I am not going to risk the baby.”
Natalie paled. “That’s not fair.”
Chuck took his wife into his arms. “Easy, Natty, I just don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I haven’t been hurt skiing since I was eleven. It’s good exercise.”
“You know what we’ve read about pregnancy and how it loosens the joints on a woman. The last thing that you need is to be laid up in a cast for part of the pregnancy.”
“Suppose that I promise just to sit around and look decorative?”
“You couldn’t do that. You know that you are far too active to
enjoy sitting around watching other people have fun. Besides, Hunt doesn’t need a chaperone.”
“Maybe Magpie does.”
“We aren’t going, Natty.”
“But, Chuck . . . .”
“No, Natalie Marie. Absolutely not.”
“That’s your final word?”
“Yes,” Chuck said firmly.
Natalie gave her husband one last bitter look, then without a further word, turned and left the room.
Maggie was surprised at how quickly the drive seemed to go. She and Hunt talked almost non-stop about a variety of subjects. Maggie wasn’t at all surprised to find Hunt to be a literate, thoughtful, man.
“Relationships can work without long courtships, Maggie mine. My grandmother met my grandfather for the first time when he picked her up at the dock. The marriage had been arranged. They had exchanged two letters. And then, she had boarded a ship from Ireland and had come over. They were married two days after she arrived in this country. They had sixty-two happy years together, before they died in a car accident.”
Maggie looked at Hunt. “That’s some story.”
“All I am saying is that I know that we haven’t known each other very long. But, I am convinced, that if you would give us a chance, we could work along well together.”
Maggie smiled at him. “To butcher a WC Fields quote, ‘Marriage is a fine institution . . . ’ I can see that you are ready to be institutionalized.”
Hunt laughed. “But, you’re not, are you?”
“Hunt,” Maggie replied lowly, painfully. It was bad enough being an emotional cripple without having to tell someone about her character fault.
“I’m not going to rush you. You take all the time that you need.”
Maggie sighed. “I am fond of you, Hunt.”
“Like you would be fond of a puppy?” he asked tightly.
“No. You know that is not right.”
Hunt smiled as he looked at her. “I know. We’re almost there.”
The Inn was really a complex of buildings. There was a main lodge that Hunt informed her was the original house built circa 1700 as the home of a very wealthy landowner. His maternal grandparents had restored the building to substantially the way it had looked at the time that the building had been constructed. The building was on the National Register of Historic Places. Then there were several small cabins for people who wanted more privacy than was allowable at the main lodge. And there were outbuildings for riding stables, garages, equipment storage, etc.
Maggie and Hunt walked into the lobby of the main lodge. A beautifully maintained slate stairway and two large brass chandeliers graced the entry hall. A rectangular, oak, trestle table near the back wall of the entryway served as a reception desk.
An elegant looking gray-haired woman sat behind the table. The woman’s total attention was on the latest Dean Koontz novel.
“Mom,” Hunt said.
The woman looked up from her novel. “Hunter!” Helen Thomas said softly almost as though she were in shock. Then she picked up the small fm transmitter handset that lay on the table. “Hank,” she said into the handset. “Hank.”
Helen smiled. Maggie noted that the woman’s eyes were just slightly lighter than Hunt’s eyes.
“Sweetheart,” Helen said quietly into the handset. “Hunter just walked through the door with a gorgeous redhead.”
Helen laughed after a moment of listening to her husband. The laugh was full of joy. “All right, dear.”
Hunt’s mother broke the connection, then placed the handset down on the table. She quickly walked around the oak table and crossed the distance to her son.
Maggie smiled as Helen threw herself into Hunt’s arms.
Helen was a good foot shorter than Hunt. She was a trim, active woman in her mid to late sixties. Her hair was cut into a practical short pageboy.
Maggie noted how gently, but firmly, Hunt was holding his mother. He kissed the top of Helen’s head. “You’re looking good, Mom.”
Helen stepped back from her son. “And you are a sight for sore eyes. Why didn’t you tell me that you were coming?”
“And ruin the surprise?” Hunt asked teasingly, with mischief in his eyes. “I talked with Dad earlier today, to say that we were coming.”
Helen wiped a tear from her eye. “Hunter, you are staying a while?”
“Of course, if you’ll have me.”
“No,” a younger male voice said from the doorway near the reception desk.
Maggie looked toward the sound of the voice.
Standing in the doorway were a pair of younger versions of Hunt. Neither of the young men exuded the aura of confidence that characterized Hunt. But there was definitely intellect behind the eyes of both men. Both men seemed so young. And that struck Maggie as odd since, according to what Hunt had told her, the twins were in their mid-twenties, not particularly younger than she was.
“No,” one of the twins continued, with an expression Maggie was coming to call the Thomas mischief glint. “You have to go back to Europe.”
“Good to see you, too, Daniel,” Hunt replied with a smile.
The other twin, Jason, laughed boldly. “I see that your taste in women has improved.”
Hunt placed his arm around Maggie’s shoulder. “You have to forgive my brother, Maggie.”
Maggie smiled. “Must I?” she teased.
Hunt laughed and lightly kissed her forehead. “Where’s Dad?”
Hank Thomas walked up behind the twins. Maggie thought that this was what Hunt would look like in thirty plus years. The adjectives which came readily to mind were tough, craggy, authoritative, tender, self assured, and strong. This was a man whom a person could count on when the times became uncertain. He was the solid rock on whom this family was built. And she suddenly knew, without a doubt, that Hunt would be the same way with his own family.
“You talking about me, again, boy?” Hank asked with obviously mock gruffness.
Maggie laughed.
“Yes, sir.”
“You going to stick around for a while, son?”
“I had thought so, sir.”
“I thought that we raised you with better manners, Hunt,” Helen stated. “We still don’t have a name to go with your friend.”
“Maggie, as you have probably figured out, this is my mother, Helen, my brothers Daniel and Jason—don’t worry if you can’t keep them straight, few people can.”
“What’s not to keep straight?” Maggie interjected. “Daniel has an old scar, looks like he had half a dozen stitches, just above his left brow. Jason has a dark mole on his right hand about two centimeters from the base of his thumb. What’s not to keep straight?”
Jason and Daniel laughed.
Hunt tightened his arm around her. “And the crusty curmudgeon is my father, Henry—Hank to his friends. Everyone, meet Margaret Mary O’Shay. But her friends call her Maggie.”
“Are you Irish, Maggie?” Hank asked.
“No, sir. American, sir,” Maggie answered back smartly.
“Military, O’Shay?” Hank questioned.
“Army brat. But, my stepfather was Navy. He sends his regards. Michael McLaughlin.”
Hank smiled broadly. “How is the Senator?”
“Much as he’s always been, sir.”
“Sorry to hear that. Heard he was going to run for President,” Hank remarked.
“I am not at liberty to discuss that, sir,” Maggie replied firmly.
“You’re Jack O’Shay’s daughter all right. No one could ever get an answer out of him, either,” Hank responded with a smile.
“I’ll take that as a compliment, sir.”
“At ease, O’Shay. The name is Hank. I’ll call you Maggie.”
Maggie smiled broadly. “Thanks, Hank.”
“So, when’s the wedding?” Hank replied sharply.
“As soon as I talk her into marrying me, I suppose,” Hunt replied in an indulgent tone. “She’s not quite convinced that I am the best thing that ha
s ever happened to her.”
“Hunt . . . .” Maggie blustered.
Helen laughed. “Don’t mind them. The men in this family are notable for their bluntness.”
“One of these days someone is going to have to teach them a lesson about how lethal a blunt object can be in the hands of a skilled opponent,” Maggie said dryly.
Everyone laughed.
Hank nodded. He looked at his wife. “Give her the Rose room.” Then he looked at his son. “You’ll be in your old room, son. Show her around. There isn’t time for you to take a ski run before dark. But, you can show her the facilities. I’ve been trying to get an engine overhauled on one of the snowplows. Family dinner will be as usual, nine, after the guests have eaten.”
Helen looked up at the man who walked into the lodge. “Can I help you?”
“Do you have a room available?” the tall, average-looking, dark-haired, man inquired.
“All we have left for tonight is a cabin, and it was a late cancellation. $200.”
“I’ll take it.”
Helen gave the man a registration card.
“Thank you, Mr.” She looked at the card. “Edwards. How will you be paying for the room?”
“Cash.” He placed two new hundred dollar bills on the table.
“You’ll just be staying the one night?”
“I had thought that I would make that decision day to day, if that doesn’t inconvenience you.”
“That particular cabin is only available for three days.”
“I doubt that I will stay longer than that,” Edwards said.
“Planning on skiing?”
“Do you have skis for rent?”
“For rental or purchase. We have a fully stocked ski shop with everything from skis to clothing. You’ll find it in the first metal building to your left as you leave the front door of this building.”
“Then I may do some skiing.”
Helen looked at him. “Breakfast is served from five until nine. Lunch is served between eleven and one. Dinner is served from six until eight-thirty each evening. All meals are served in the main dining room, just beyond those double doors. No room service is available. There is a kitchen in the cabin, if you would prefer to cook for yourself.”
