Around six-thirty in the morning, Katie gave Mom and Brandon a call. Brandon was duly irate that he hadn’t been first on the scene, but he grudgingly forgave Katie for not throwing Mom into a panic in the middle of the night when there was really nothing she could have done.
Mom arrived around nine with fresh cinnamon rolls, relieving Katie of her self-appointed nursing duties. Molly shared her story once, only to be asked to repeat it in more detail. Mom couldn’t quite believe that her timid daughter had shot firearms, stared into the face of a murderer, climbed up a snow-covered hill in the dark, and carried a gun as she did so.
Finally, Mom shook her head, her blonde layers shifting to frame her petite face. “Molly Anne McClure, I would ask what’s gotten into you, but I already know. That Isaiah Boone is more than a looker—he’s the real deal. He’s the kind of man who doesn’t shy away from commitment—you can see how he looks after his daughter—and he seems to know the way you tick. I mean, who else could have managed to get you to shoot a gun? Not even your father could do that, and he was a hard man to say ‘no’ to. A little strong-headed, like you.” She smiled.
Molly stretched, basking in the rich scents of the cinnamon rolls and freshly brewed coffee Mom had arranged on a tray. Life would calm down for Zane, now that his terrorist stalkers were out of the picture. Would Krista finally acknowledge how much danger her ex-husband had been in all along? Molly would like to see her eat crow on that one.
She looked around the familiar comforts of her room. Katie had once told her, “No matter where you live, it always feels so homey.” It was true that she loved to be comfortable. Safe. She liked having extra money to pamper herself, and she liked to shop.
But now…she couldn’t go back to that life. Someone had come along and upended everything. Even in the face of her silly bravado, Zane hadn’t mocked her once. He had taken her seriously, unlocking a whole new level of strength she didn’t know she had.
Mom swallowed a bite of roll and fixed Molly with a thoughtful look. “I think I know someone who could use some cinnamon rolls. I brought extra and I’m happy to drive you over to say hello. But you might want to change out of your PJs first.”
Molly gulped the rest of her coffee, hoping it would give her an extra boost to go through with this. It was entirely possible that Zane didn’t want to see her face again. Although her SOS had managed to get through, she hadn’t gotten it out in time to protect him from getting shot.
But she knew the man hated hospital food. The least she could do was to take him some cinnamon rolls.
Krista was nowhere in sight when Molly walked into Zane’s room, but Lola sat on the wide chair with her grandma, coloring.
Molly peeked over her shoulder. “Is that Princess Jasmine? She was my favorite.”
Lola looked up, her grin wide. “I have a Jasmine doll, too. You want to see it?”
“I’d love to.”
The little girl rushed to grab her glittery backpack and extricated a doll with clumped-up black hair and rubbed-off eyes that only vaguely resembled her animated counterpart.
“I can tell you love her a lot,” Molly said.
Lola beamed. “You’re pretty.”
“Thank you. So are you.”
Mrs. Boone stood and stretched. “You missed the hubbub this morning.”
Molly stiffened, hoping it wasn’t bad news.
“Those lumberjacks can be a salty lot, but they have hearts of gold and they’d do anything for Zane. They showed up with enough peanuts, popcorn, and deer jerky to last him a month.”
Molly let her breath out, relieved. “He must be a great boss.”
“He learned from the best. John put his heart and soul into that business, and he was proud to pass it on to Zane. Basil never showed much interest, but maybe things will change.”
A weak voice trailed over their way, distracting Molly from her follow-up question. Lola immediately rushed over to Zane’s bedside.
“Daddy! Grams said I couldn’t talk to you, but I knew you’d want to talk to me!”
Molly hesitated, taking in Zane’s appearance. His eyes had circles under them and his face was a bit discolored. He held a breathing mask in his hand, which he likely needed to put back on without delay. Monitors and tubes dominated the floor space near him, but Lola had squeezed in right next to the bedside.
Molly really didn’t even want to see what had happened to his chest where the bullet had torn into him.
She silently backed up, hoping he hadn’t seen her. Handing Mrs. Boone the glass dish of cinnamon rolls, she whispered, “I’m going to let him rest. Be sure to take some for yourself and Lola, too.”
Mrs. Boone squeezed her hand. “We sure will. Thank you for coming by. I’ll let him know you stopped in.”
Molly stepped into the hallway and glanced around. Krista sat on a couch at the end of the corridor, texting furiously. Although she had acted like a dutiful mother, bringing her daughter to see her daddy each time he was injured, Molly suspected that was as far as her loyalty went. She still emanated irritation and distrust.
Molly’s fingers throbbed, and she clenched and unclenched them. Krista wasn’t someone she wanted to deal with right now.
She met Mom where she waited in the lobby and asked her to drive her home. It was a good thing work had called to let her know everything was under control. Her feet still tingled from the frostbite, and all she felt like doing was putting on fluffy socks, warm gloves, and climbing back under the covers.
As they walked to the car, she had to admit that her feet and fingers weren’t the only parts of her feeling pained. It had been difficult to see Zane lying there so helpless, and hard to force herself to walk away. When he recovered, he would probably remember how inept she had been at doing everything he loved to do.
Much as she’d tried to pretend, it must’ve been obvious that she’d known nothing about logging, shooting, fishing, hiking, or all the outdoorsy things that made Zane who he was. He needed a woman who could share his interests, someone to have fun with and make his heart lighter after his divorce and the traumatic few weeks he’d had.
Tugging her hair around her face to hide a few stray tears from Mom, she determined she’d back off and let Zane find someone better suited to him. For once, she’d give up on something she really wanted.
Because Zane was worth it.
15
Three weeks had passed and Zane hadn’t heard from Molly.
Maybe she’d been too traumatized by the series of events at the cabin to return his calls. Maybe the frostbite still bothered her.
He didn’t want to think about the final option—maybe she wasn’t interested and had moved on.
His recovery had been slow, but Basil had actually shown up and taken over some of the office work at the logging company. It turned out his brother had a knack for the paperwork Zane disliked. Basil wasn’t ready to commit to a move, but Zane could finally see how a partnership with him might play out, and it wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d feared.
Finally, Zane felt safe in his own home, and he’d talked Krista into letting Lola visit a couple of times. When his daughter was around, he found it easy to focus on her and not on his own problems.
He was still short of breath and his rib bones almost felt like they were rubbing together, but his doctor assured him that he was healing well. He had started walking around the house, but couldn’t get very far before he had to sit down.
Brandon McClure stopped by with a meal from his mom, and they chatted for a long time. When Zane asked Brandon about Molly, Brandon hedged and said she had several weddings coming up. But Zane thought he saw pity in his eyes.
He couldn’t stand to be an object of pity.
The next day, although it took him at least fifteen minutes, he changed from his loose shorts and shirt into a clean button-up and jeans. He couldn’t wear T-shirts because he couldn’t pull them on and off. Every move shot fresh pain through him, but he didn’t care.
He had to see Molly. He had to know she was okay, not only physically, but mentally, after their ordeal. He carefully climbed into his truck, only to realize the tightened seatbelt would put too much pressure on his aching ribs. Grabbing a heavy jacket from his seat, he positioned it over his stomach and stretched the belt around it.
His drive to The Greenbrier took about twice as long as it should have, but he finally pulled up into the old train depot parking lot across from the resort. He caught the shuttle bus and made his way into the main doors, all too aware that he was once again underdressed.
He had to ask at the desk where Molly’s office was, but it turned out it was in the wedding planning room, which wasn’t far away. He stepped into the soothing turquoise-and-coral space, taking in the oversized wedding photos of famous couples and the fake, tiered cakes displayed on lavish table settings.
Movement from a side room caught his eye. He caught a glimpse of a red mane, then saw Molly lean back in her chair as she spoke on the phone. He stood in silence, watching her graceful movements.
As if she felt his stare, she glanced his way. Her eyes widened and she paused, then held up a finger so he would wait as she finished her call.
When she walked out, he felt more breathless than before. She wore a straight, silky-looking navy dress that fit her perfectly. Her nude heels boosted her to match his height. Her auburn curls looked so smooth, he had to restrain himself from touching one.
He couldn’t think of a thing to say.
Thankfully, her eyes brightened and a smile played on her lips. “And what are you doing out on the town, crip? Brandon told me you were supposed to lie low until your ribs heal.”
So Brandon had reported back to Molly. Zane let his gaze play over the soft lines of her face. Did she still feel anything for him? When her eyes began to glisten, he realized she was holding back tears.
He took her hands in his. “What if I asked you to go out with me again? Would you run for the hills?”
She made a little choke-gasp noise and shook her head slowly. “I would never run from you. But I’m afraid I’m not what you need.”
He released her hands to thumb away tears that spilled onto her cheeks, even though lifting his arm was enough to remind him of the beating his body had taken. “What are you talking about? You’re just what I need, Molly. What I’ve always needed.”
“But I’m not outdoorsy. I’m a girly-girl who likes clothes and makeup and weddings and—”
“I’m not going to ask you to give up your girly things. I like that. I like that you’re so different and…other… from me. I can’t get enough of you.”
“But I’m scared of things. Spiders. And I don’t like housework or cooking. And—”
He smiled. “I’m not bad in the kitchen.” He cupped her face in his hands, relishing the softness of her skin against his work-roughened palms. He couldn’t look away from the natural beauty of her flushed cheeks and her bright amber eyes.
When Molly started to protest again, his gaze drifted to her mouth.
“But—”
He slid a thumb over the full curve of her bottom lip, and her words stuttered to a halt under his caress. In a voice rough with emotion, he said, “Trust me, it’ll work.”
A tremor raced up his spine when he felt her sway toward him, her eyes growing soft, her lashes lowering slightly. “I trust you,” she murmured, before she pressed her mouth to his in a kiss that made his breath catch.
He threaded his fingers through her silky hair, then he wrapped his arms around her and slowly drew her to him. As she melted into his embrace, he realized that he felt no pain. Not one bit.
Dear Reader,
I hope you’ve enjoyed spending time with Molly McClure and Zane Boone in this story. As I researched Undercut, I was blessed to be able to celebrate our twentieth anniversary with a one-night stay at The Greenbrier Resort. If you’d like to see pictures of The Greenbrier and the characters I envisioned for Undercut, please check out my Pinterest board here.
A huge thanks to Jason and Josh for their input on military procedures and guns. Any mistakes along those lines are all mine!
The flood of 2016, referred to in the book, was a real event that took lives and affected many people across West Virginia. As mentioned, it did do damage to areas of The Greenbrier Resort’s grounds. Here is just one of many stories shared about the events of that time. But in true West Virginia fashion, residents banded together to do cleanup work and to donate cleaning items, clothing, and food for those affected. Others from out of state showed up to help in the crisis, such as God’s Pit Crew, an organization that served meals to those who suddenly found themselves homeless.
Thank you again for sharing this Appalachian adventure—there’s almost nothing I enjoy more than bringing a taste of modern “wild and wonderful West Virginia” to my readers.
If you haven’t read Katie McClure’s story in Out of Circulation, be sure to pick that up here.
For updates on the release of Deadlocked (Brandon McClure’s story), Book 3 in the Hemlock Creek Suspense series, please sign up for my newsletter here.
And if you enjoyed Undercut, please be sure to tell your reader friends about it and to leave a review at your online retailers of choice. Reviews are a wonderful way to encourage authors and to let them know you want to read more of their books!
-Heather
About the Author
HEATHER DAY GILBERT, a Grace Award winner and bestselling author, writes novels that capture life in all its messy, bittersweet, hope-filled glory. Born and raised in the West Virginia mountains, generational story-telling runs in her blood. Heather writes Viking historicals and Appalachian mystery/suspense. Publisher’s Weekly gave Heather’s Viking historical Forest Child a starred review, saying it is “an engaging story depicting timeless human struggles with faith, love, loyalty, and leadership.” Find out more on heatherdaygilbert.com.
You can find Heather online here:
Website: http://heatherdaygilbert.com
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/heatherdaygilbert
Twitter: @heatherdgilbert
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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7232683.Heather_Day_Gilbert
E-Mail: heatherdaygilbert (at) gmail (dot) com
If you enjoyed Undercut, please leave a review on your online book retailer of choice or on Goodreads here. Positive reviews encourage authors more than you know!
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