The Lady Stole My Heart (The Lady is Mine, #2)

by Aimee Nicole Walker

  “Fighting chickens?” I asked. All three kids nodded.

  “Clay Morris said it was a bloody, fight-to-the-finish kind of thing,” the girl said then promptly burst into tears. One of the older boys put his arm around the girl and tucked her beneath his armpit so she could cry into his chest. He had the same color hair, eyes, and freckles as the younger girl, so I figured they were siblings.

  “We honestly thought we were saving them,” the oldest boy said. His coloring was slightly different, and his skin was missing the freckles, but he had the same shape of eyes, nose, and mouth as the younger two. “We combined our Christmas and birthday money to buy the supplies to build this coop and provide food for the chickens.”

  Adrian and I both let out long sighs because busting these kids wasn’t going to make anyone feel good. Still, they needed to learn a valuable lesson.

  “Listen, cock fighting is against the law, and you should come to the police anytime you think a law is being broken or someone is planning to break it. You can’t take matters into your own hands.”

  “Serious harm could’ve come to the chickens if you didn’t properly set up their coop. You could’ve exposed them to deadly predators,” Adrian added. “Not to mention the stress of taking the animals from their environments could’ve caused them not to eat or drink. I can see you had good intentions, but your actions might’ve had a very negative outcome.”

  “I’ll take the responsibility,” the oldest sibling said. “Let them go home.”

  “No,” the young girl said. “This was all my idea. You two just can’t tell me no.”

  A wry grin spread across the younger brother’s face and warmed my fucking heart. Hell, I was ready to confess to stealing the chickens myself to spare them.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do,” Adrian said firmly. “The three of you are going home right now and telling your parents what you did. Detective Markham and I are going to return the chickens to their rightful owners and explain to them why you took the chickens. Rather than pressing charges, I’m going to ask if they’re willing to accept community service instead. I know for a fact most of these are older women who rely on the egg money for their income. That means they could use help caring for the chickens and cleaning their cages.” The three kids looked hopeful for the first time since we arrived. “And whatever else they need help with.”

  “Mowing grass,” I suggested.

  “Weeding the flowerbeds,” Maegan added.

  “Cleaning the gutters,” Adrian tossed out.

  “That sounds fair,” the girl said quickly, but I could tell by her brothers’ expressions they weren’t very enthused.

  “Better than picking up trash and cleaning sidewalks all over town,” I told them, which was the typical starting point for community service in the county. I had to say it worked pretty well for most kids, especially when they wore those brightly colored vests with giant initials CCJCD on the back identifying them as part of the Carter County Juvenile Correction Department. I saw the dawning of awareness wash over the boys seconds before they vigorously nodded in agreement.

  “Should I walk you home?” Maegan asked. “I do have the rest of the afternoon off.”

  “It won’t be necessary, Cousin,” the oldest one said. I knew I recognized those freckles.

  “See you at the family reunion on Saturday,” the girl said to Maegan.

  “You can count on it,” Maegan told them. “I will be calling your parents this evening to make sure you confessed to your activities, and Detective Markham will discuss the arrangements he made with the chickens’ owners and when he expects you to be at their homes to begin work.”

  “We’ll tell them when they get home from work, Mae,” the middle sibling said.

  I never asked their names, but it wasn’t necessary after seeing the resemblance to Maegan and her familiarity with them. I’d get the names out of my Freckles even if I had to tickle it out of her.

  “Adrian, do you mind if I head to the house for a chat with Maegan? I’ll grab Lulu’s puppy crate from the garage so we can transport the chickens back to their owners. I’m hoping the joyful reunions soften them up, and they’ll consider the alternative arrangement to filing official charges against the kids.”

  “No problem, partner,” Adrian said, exchanging a look with me which said I could take my time. He saw how unhappy I was when I found out Maegan had decided to intervene.

  Maegan knew she was in for an argument, but it didn’t stop her from sliding her fingers between mine and holding my hand. She wasn’t doing it to soften me up or manipulate me; she understood our pending, frank discussion changed nothing between us.

  She dropped my hand once we stood inside our home and turned to face me. “Let me have it.”

  “That was a risky move, Maegan. You assumed the criminals were as seemingly harmless as the crimes they committed. Your assumption could’ve gotten you hurt. Many people would never harm an animal but wouldn’t hesitate to kill a person.” I saw this firsthand with Axel Washington. The man adored animals but would kill a person who he perceived as a traitor without batting an eyelash. “It reminds me of the night we met when you saw I held a gun in my hand and you charged toward me instead of running.”

  “I know, and I am sorry.”

  “Promise me you won’t do it again.”

  “Um…” She bit her bottom lip and briefly broke eye contact to study her feet before returning her ornery green eyes to mine. “I can only promise that I will try not to do it again.”

  “Fair enough.” I hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her tighter against me. “I like those sparkly purple toenails.” I liked the image of her lying naked in bed while I rubbed lotion into her feet so she could return the favor by massaging my cock between her arches and tease my taint with her big toe.

  “Later tonight,” she said, reading my mind. “I have something else important to tell you.”

  I listened to the story of Theodore Rutledge calling her with mixed feelings. She was so excited for a Bliss heir to step inside Bliss House again, so I was happy for her even though my protective and possessive instincts were triggered. Then she came to the part where he suggested she obtain a background check to make herself feel better about his interest. That relieved the protective part but did nothing to diminish my urge to pound my chest like an ape.

  “Forward the email to me as soon as you get it. I’ll run him through the system right away.”

  “Thank you, Elijah.”

  “You’re welcome, Freckles, but what exactly are you thanking me for?”

  “For loving me the way you do. I knew you were mad about me rushing into the woods to play vigilante, but I didn’t fear you because you’d never lay a hand on me in anger. I also knew you wouldn’t like the idea of a strange man in our house but would do everything within your power to alleviate those concerns because it would make me happy. I trust you with my heart, health, and happiness.”

  Her words moved me more than any she’d ever spoken. It felt like the perfect time to run up to our room and grab the ring box I’d hidden in my dresser. Then my phone beeped with an incoming text from Adrian, reminding me I had a different type of duty to perform.

  “You better grab the cage and head back to the woods before Adrian thinks we’re fucking.” My dick twitched at the thought.

  “Maybe I’ll come home for a furious fuck on a Wednesday when Adrian isn’t waiting for me in our woods.”

  “So, lunchtime next Wednesday?” she suggested.

  “It’s a date, Freckles.”

  I kept my goodbye kiss shorter and more innocent than I preferred then hustled back to Adrian. I was prepared for some good-natured ribbing, but instead, all his mirth was directed at our police captain whose vacation wasn’t going according to plan.

  “Did you tell him we caught the chicken snatchers?” I asked.

  “No way,” Adrian said, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to give him an excuse to cancel his trip and c
ome home early.”

  “He and Josh aren’t getting along?” I asked.

  “No, they’re doing fine. He was having a great time with Josh until the other guests started arriving for the murder-mystery event they have going on.” Adrian started laughing. “Let’s just say some of the guests have an alternative lifestyle.” He gestured his hand back and forth in a swinging motion. I had no idea what he was trying to say. Swing? Sex Swing? Oh!

  “Swingers!”

  “Among other things. It sounds like a whole lot of fuckery.”

  “Better him than me,” I said.

  “Me too. Ready to start transporting these chickens back to their rightful owners?”

  “Do we take them back to the station so the owners can identify them?” I asked.

  “Nah,” Adrian said, tapping an icon on his phone. “The owners provided pictures of their stolen chickens, so I can easily match them up. These eggs will need to be discarded because there’s no telling how long they’ve been sitting there. You need to be careful handling the chickens and their eggs because of salmonella. Those kids could’ve gotten very sick if they weren’t following proper hygiene.”

  I would’ve teased Adrian about having those pictures on his phone if it weren’t so damn handy. We delivered all of the chickens back to their overjoyed owners. All of them heartily accepted the alternative punishment we planned, except for the final stop.

  “Come now, Mrs. Blankenbauer,” Adrian said softly. “These are good kids who thought they were saving the chickens from an illegal fighting ring.”

  “I want to see them go to jail for the fear and grief they caused me.” She then started telling us about the world she grew up in and how that kind of thievery would never be tolerated under any circumstance. “They must pay.”

  “Mrs. Blankenbauer, the county judge is only going to assign community service to kids this young, but it will be cleaning up the little park in the center of town or cleaning sidewalks. As nice as it sounds, wouldn’t it be better for you to personally benefit from their service?”

  “Are there limitation to what kind of work they perform?” she asked.

  “I suspect their parents will insist there be limitations. I think lawn work, cleaning gutters, and caring for the chickens is fair punishment for the crime.”

  “Well, they appear to have taken good are of Jezebel, Betty, and Gloria during their captivity, so I will accept your offer.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. B,” Adrian said. “You won’t regret it.”

  “If I do, I’m taking it out of your hide, young man,” she told him.

  Afterward, we stopped by the Johnsons’ house to speak to Tom and Cyndi, parents of Stephanie, Brian, and Steven Johnson, aka the chicken snatchers. The parents were expecting us and were appalled by their kids’ activities and so grateful they wouldn’t have a juvenile record. They agreed each of their kids should serve a minimum fifty hours of community service. Hell, I was thinking two hours a day for the next two weeks, but who was I to argue with them? We decided two hours a day for four weeks, for a total of fifty-six hours for each of them.

  Adrian dropped me off at my truck afterward, and I quickly dialed my parents’ house so I could tell my dad the chicken snatcher sting operation was a success. The phone was answered on the second ring, but not by my mother or father. I would’ve had a hard time telling the two Jack Markhams apart if it weren’t for Dad’s voice sounding weaker after chemo.

  “Hello?” Jack asked again. I closed my eyes as a wave of misery and something else washed over me. I finally identified it as longing. The part of me that didn’t hate my brother’s fucking guts ached so much for his absence. Ten years ago, the ratio was nine to one in favor of hate. Slowly, the scale had shifted without me even being aware until I realized there was more longing to reconnect than there was hate in my heart.

  “May I speak with Dad, please?” I said when I could find my voice.

  Jack sucked in a sharp breath then said, “Sure. I’ll take the phone to him, Elijah.”

  I heard murmured voices as Jack told Dad I was on the phone. When Dad came on the phone, he sounded better than he had the day before. In fact, every day was an improvement, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the two men when they answered the phone. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, so I pushed it aside for the moment.

  “I have great news, Dad. We caught the chicken snatchers.”

  Dad gave a great big whooping laugh then urged me to tell the story. “You and your partner did the right thing for those kids. I bet they’ll learn a valuable lesson.”

  “I hope so,” I told him. “I gotta run and get ready for my softball game tonight. I just wanted to bring you up to date.”

  “I’m glad you did. Tell Freckles I said hello.”

  “Will do. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Talking to my dad got easier every time, but I wasn’t sure what to do about my feelings toward my brother. My thoughts were consumed by happy memories of the two of us growing up on our farm. For the first time in ten years, I wasn’t willing to accept the current status of our relationship was the best we could hope for. I was eager to discuss it with Maegan, but I found her fast asleep on the couch with Lulu and Rascal.

  I knelt beside the couch, brushed the riotous curls away from her face, and kissed her forehead. She made adorable little sighs that made me want to keep kissing her until she woke up, but I didn’t. Maegan wasn’t a nap taker, so she must’ve been really tired. Instead, I went into the kitchen and started dinner. My skills were limited, but Maegan seemed to love my spaghetti, and I had plenty of time to digest it before destroying my competitors on the diamond.

  The only bad thing was the silence allowed me too much time to think about the complexities of families and the tangled relationships arising from them. I recalled my conversation with Maegan about Theodore Rutledge and checked my email to see if she sent the information while I was busy returning chickens, and I saw she had. I knew the background search could wait until the morning, but I had promised Maegan I’d get right on it, so I dialed Wen’s number.

  “Wen, can you do me a favor and run a background check?” I explained the situation and forwarded the email to him after he agreed. “Thanks. I’ll owe you one.”

  After I hung up, I smelled tobacco smoke and knew Anthony was near. I wondered how he would react to his heir stepping inside Bliss House after so many years. We’d find out soon if Rutledge’s background check came back clean.

  THE BACKGROUND CHECK FOR THEODORE Rutledge came back crystal clear, and I learned the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, regardless of the generation gap between Theodore and Anthony. Perhaps the hereditary markers in their DNA included a special strand for entrepreneurship. Theodore Rutledge was the founder and CEO of a Fortune 500 software and technology development company located in Northern Kentucky, and due to his busy schedule, our meeting kept getting pushed back until I started to think maybe he’d changed his mind and didn’t want to upset me.

  “I think he’s the next Steve Jobs,” Memphis said gleefully when we were crawling through the dust and debris in an attic after Sunday brunch one hot, humid day at the end of August looking for treasures we didn’t know we needed until we cast our eyes upon them. “He’s one of the largest employers in Northern Kentucky and has a great reputation. He offers benefits other corporations don’t. People fight for a chance to work there.”

  “You know I’m standing right here, don’t you, Firecracker,” Lyric said from behind us. For whatever reason, he loved tagging along to help us look through other people’s stuff. I think he took great joy in seeing the way Memphis lit up when he found something that excited him. I glanced over my shoulder to see if Lyric was really jealous about the awe he heard in Memphis’s voice, and he winked playfully at me.

  “Not to mention his charitable contributions,” Memphis continued. “I believe I read someplace he donates nearly half of his salary to wo
rthy causes. Anthony would be very proud to know many of them are LGBTQ+ causes to promote education and raise suicide prevention.”

  “Maybe Maegan can erect a statue of him and put it in the front lawn,” Lyric said. “Or better yet, you can create a cartoon hero in his honor.”

  “No one is erecting anything, and I’m not putting him into a comic book, Ric,” Memphis said, finally acknowledging his boyfriend’s displeased grumbles.

  “Are you sure? You sound kind of erect over there.”

  Memphis turned to look at his boyfriend with an impish grin. “I can admire a man’s character without wishing he was in my bed or putting his likeness in an illustration. There’s only room for one man in my bed and in the pages of my comic book.”

  “I hate to interrupt this tender moment—” I began.

  “Then don’t,” Memphis interjected.

  “We only have thirty minutes left to dig through the attic,” I continued.

  “Later, Ric,” Memphis said, returning to dig through boxes. “Aha! A Michael Jackson Thriller album still wrapped in cellophane.”

  I started to pout because I hadn’t found anything exciting until I came across a box with very little dirt and dust on it, indicating it had been there only a short time. The bare bulbs hanging in the attic weren’t bright enough to illuminate the corner, so I switched on my small flashlight and knelt to see what was inside the box. I pulled out the packing slip lying on top. It identified the object as a soldier’s foot locker from Vietnam and said it was shipped three weeks ago to Mr. Betson who was the winning eBay bidder. I set the packing slip aside and opened the metal box inside. What I found made me gasp.

  “Did you find something good, Mae?” Lyric asked when he joined me.

  “Possibly,” I said, pointing to the contents. “It appears to be the personal property of a soldier. There are letters, a bible, clothes, photos, and even a pack of cigarettes. There’s no telling what else is inside.”

  Lyric picked up the packing slip and read it. “I wonder why Mr. Betson purchased the foot locker belonging to an unknown soldier?”