Glancing down the row of cars, she saw other splotches of red on vehicles.
The boy lifted his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t think there’d be anything wrong with—”
“What’d he look like?” Garret got in the boy’s space.
Megan sucked in air. Maybe this was just a coincidence. She’d look at the flower to see if it was just a random gesture from some local guy. She took a step toward the car.
“Hold on, baby.” Garret held her arm but pointed at the boy. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Yes sir.” His voice cracked once.
Garret walked around Megan and leaned over the windshield, examining the flower. When he lifted the wiper blade, Megan covered her mouth with her fingers. She hadn’t considered that it could be dangerous. The flower tumbled to the hood, a piece of paper sliding with it.
“It says, ‘Canada is your home, Maggie’.” Garret looked at her. “Maggie?”
Things went dark around her, and Megan focused on not fainting. “That’s me.” The words were a choppy whisper.
“Damn it.” Garret pulled out his phone. In seconds, he had the sheriff on the line. “We’ve got a stalker. Followed her from Canada.” Garret went on to explain the earlier flower delivery, now this single rose.
The young man stood staring, absorbing every word. His friend even stopped his incessant whittling for a few seconds before starting up again.
Megan watched the tiny pieces of wood hit the sidewalk. This couldn’t be real. A sick sense of dizziness enveloped her and sounds seemed to come from far away.
“Sheriff? You’re on speaker phone.”
“All right.”
Garret held his phone out toward the boys. “Give the sheriff a description of the man who left the flower.”
“He was short.” The standing kid gestured toward Megan. “Shorter than the lady here. Had really short black hair and a crooked nose.”
“Did you get that, sheriff?” Garret pressed a button then held the phone to his ear again. “That was Whip Yoder. He was watching—”
“I’m not Whip.” The boy sounded insulted. “Whip’s my older brother. I’m Brace.”
“Huh.” Garret listened to his phone. “Yeah, he looks just like Whip.”
Brace’s whittling friend laughed a couple chortles before Brace smacked him on the arm.
“No, it can’t wait until morning—” Garret’s jaw tightened. “Yes, I agree that is more urgent, but I still—” He looked at Megan. “All right. First thing, though.” He hung up.
“Sheriff’s got his hands full tonight, but he’ll be talking to you two...” He pointed to Brace and his silent buddy. “Tomorrow.” He took a couple bills from his wallet.
Brace shook his head. “I messed up. I’m not going to take it.”
Garret stuffed the bills in the boy’s chest pocket. “You did good, and you have a description of the man.” He clapped him on the back. “Now get home before you get me in trouble with your dad.”
“Yes, sir.” He looked at Megan. “I’m real sorry, ma’am.”
She forced a smile. “No need to apologize, Brace.” Why couldn’t she hear her own voice?
He ducked his head and he and his friend ran down the sidewalk, probably anxious to spread the newest gossip.
Garret opened the trunk of his car, took out a bag, and picked up the flower and the note using the plastic. He set it in the trunk, slammed it shut, and opened Megan’s door. “Let’s get home where it’ll be safe.”
As she slid in, he dialed his phone, closed her door, and walked around the car checking for possible sabotage. “Trey, we’ve got a problem. The bastard left a rose on the windshield.” He held the phone away from his ear and she could hear the cowboy yelling.
“Listen, I’d love to stand here and let you yell at me for another hour, but I need both hands to get Megan home safe, so whenever you’re done...”
He slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Trey was still shouting. “Trey, just hold that thought until we get there, damn it.” He hung up and tossed his phone into the console. “Like this is my fault.” Shifting into reverse, he roared into the middle of the street and burned a little rubber getting them headed back to the ranch.
This was her fault. She’d put everyone in danger because she wanted to follow her heart to Texas.
Garret’s phone rang. She looked at him, but he kept driving. Once they were on the highway, he took his hand off the gearshift and grabbed hers.
His was warm, hers was cold and numb. “Baby.” He studied her face. “This is all going to be okay.”
No. It wasn’t. She had to think. To make a plan.
He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Talk to me. What’s going on in your head right now?”
Nothing came to mind. The hot wind scattered her hair around and she grasped it with her free hand. Brace’s description of the man could have been her stalker. “Brace Yoder.”
“His dad works in security at the ranch. Good man. What about Brace?” Garret released her hand and downshifted around a curve.
She’d said it aloud? “Brace and Whip Yoder. I’m having culture shock just from the names you Texans carry around with you.”
“Megan, close your eyes for a minute.”
When she did, he rubbed his thumb slowly over her palm. “You are a strong, smart woman. You’re not that scared college girl anymore.”
Her eyes popped open and she stared at him.
With a quick glance at her, he shifted again and gunned the engine, sailing them forward at an impressive speed. “You have two men who would do anything to keep you safe. We’ll make this go away for you.”
When did her movie star find his inner therapist? She opened her mouth to voice her concerns but his phone rang again.
He looked at it then ignored it. “Trey. Calling back to yell some more.”
She would have smiled if her head didn’t feel disconnected from reality. Trey was yelling, Garret was spouting inspirational blurbs. Was everything upside down today?
“What I can’t figure out is why Brace’s description pegged a shorter guy than Jenny Ann Unger did.” Garret shifted as they headed down the unending straightaway. He handed her his phone. “Would you find the number for Unger Store and dial it for me?”
“This late? Won’t they be upset?” She searched his contacts and found the name.
“I’ll apologize, and they’ll love telling the story tomorrow. Garret McGatlin called them in the middle of the night.” He took the phone from her and pressed to call the number. “Even if it is just after ten.”
She’d love to meet the Ungers—once all this blew over. If it blew over. Which made her more determined to find a course of action and follow it.
“Hello, Mr. Unger, it’s Garret. I’m sorry to disturb you this late.” He winked at Megan as Mr. Unger’s voice rambled on. “I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t urgent. Yeah. It’s about those flowers. Can I talk with Mrs. Unger, please?”
She smiled. It was cute how respectful he was of his elders.
Garret recited the description of the stalker that the Yoder boy had given them. After listening for a few minutes, he let out a long breath. “Okay, thank you, Mrs. Unger. I’ll have the sheriff talk to you in the morning about this. Good night.” He hung up and set the phone down.
“Well?” Megan turned toward him.
“When she held her hand up a foot over her head?”
“Yes?”
Garret growled. “She meant he was that tall when she’d been sitting down at the chair behind the counter.”
Megan smiled, then sobered. “We could have been in danger tonight. We shouldn’t have left the ranch.”
He set his hand at the nape of her neck. “We were safe. Nothing happened.” Rubbing her tense muscles, he caught her eye. “You can’t live locked up so he can’t get you. We have to find this bastard and take him out.”
Take. Him. Out. How many times had she thought of buying a gun, learning to s
hoot, and just getting it over with, even if she had to serve time?
They rode in silence until the house was in sight. “Who the hell is here this time of night?” A big red pickup sat in the driveway. Garret pulled into the garage and walked Megan into the kitchen.
Trey stood from the table, and so did a tall older man with light hair and a big gray mustache.
“Dad?” Garret spoke from behind her. “Mom.”
Her knees almost gave out. Could she take any more shocks today?
Their mother sat at the table holding a coffee mug in two hands. She was gorgeously plump with dark blue eyes. Her short, blonde hair framed her unwrinkled face. All except the line above her nose where her brows drew down over her blue eyes.
When no one spoke, their mother got up and walked to Megan. “Dearie, we’re so sorry to hear about what’s been happening.” She gestured to the table. “Come. Sit.” She patted her arm. “I’ll make you some herbal tea.” She padded toward the sink and the instant hot water tap.
“Thank you.” She looked at Trey. “It hasn’t really hit me yet, but...” But what? She should be hiding under a bed.
Trey stepped around the table and pulled out a chair. “Megan Shore, this is our mom, Patty, and our dad, Derrick.”
Derrick nodded. “Pleased to meet you.” Although his face bore a mix of both Trey and Garret’s features, his eyes shone a unique, light blue. Megan had almost forgotten that Trey’s legal name was Derrick McGatlin the Third. And now she’d met ‘the Second.’
“Sit down, dearie.” Patty pointed to the chair. “Before you fall down.”
Megan’s knees wobbled as she walked to the table, but she sat without incident. She glanced at Trey and watched him exchanging laser stares with Garret.
“Don’t mind them, Megan.” Derrick took his seat and wrapped his big hand around his beer bottle. “They can talk without words.” He cocked his head toward his wife. “Used to drive her crazy.”
“Now all I have is you to keep me completely nuts.” Patty walked to the table and set a steaming cup in front of Megan. “Drink.” She sat. “It’ll calm you.”
Megan took the first full breath she’d dared to inhale since seeing the rose. With her exhale, tears burned behind her eyes. She blinked to hold them back.
Garret walked up behind her. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
Derrick shrugged. “We wanted to surprise you. Inez called and said you were home.” He gave Trey a glare, then moved it to Garret’s face. “Why would we expect our sons to tell us that the big Hollywood star was making an appearance—”
“Derrick.” His wife cut him off. “There are other things more important now.” She looked at Garret. “Your brother did try to warn you. He called your phone twice and left messages that the old folks had infested the place.”
Derrick chuckled.
“Mom.” Trey sat. “That’s not anything close to what I said.” He looked at Garret. “But I did try to warn you.”
Garret grumped and walked to the fridge.
“You live in Brownsville, now?” Megan tried to remember what her men had told her in Chicago.
“Near there.” Derrick smiled at her. “And you’re here all the way from Canada.”
She nodded. Not for long, though. A flash of panic tore through her. She stared into her mug, feeling that sense of unreality slide over her.
“Megan.” Patty’s voice had a calming quality that made Megan want to curl into her arms. “Trey told us what has been going on with the flowers. We want to help.”
“No.” She looked at the other three at the table, then behind her at Garret who stood leaning on the counter holding a beer. “I don’t want to get anyone else involved in this. I need to go home.”
“No!” Both Trey and Garret said the word but Derrick was the one who held up a hand as if to stop her. “Don’t let that bastard scare you away.” His eyes grew steely. “I’m a good friend of one of the Assistant Directors of the Texas Rangers. After we talk with the local sheriff in the morning, I’m going to get him on the line.” He made a fist and pounded the table. “We’re going to nail this rat’s ass and make sure he never gets out of prison this time.”
His wife patted his forearm. “Don’t scare the girl.”
“Sorry, Megan, but men in our family do not let things like this happen to women. Any woman.”
Trey nodded. Garret raised his beer. “Damn right.” Patty lifted her mug. “If anyone can do it, you boys can.”
This time, the burn of tears behind her eyes wasn’t fear, it was the swell of emotion from the kindness these people showed her. She tipped her head down to hide the tear that trickled along her cheek.
“We should be going.” Patty stood.
“Going?” Derrick didn’t move. “I think we should hear the whole story tonight. We can make plans before the sheriff—”
Trey stood. “She’s been through enough for one day. We’ll hear it in the morning.”
“You’re not staying here?” Garret set down his beer and walked toward his mother.
Megan hadn’t considered the sleeping arrangements. With the parents in the same house, Trey, Garret, and she would get a lot more sleep than they had the last few nights.
“When we heard you had a guest in the house,” Patty shrugged. “We asked Inez to get the old homestead ready for us.”
Megan wiped away the moisture from her cheek. “Old homestead?”
Derrick gestured out the window. “It’s nearly three miles downstream, on the river.” He chuckled. “It sounds worse than it is. It’s on the site where my grandfather built his original shack. Now there’s a big guest house designed to meet Ms. Patty’s expensive specifications.”
Patty sent her husband a look then pulled Garret into a tight, loving hug only a mother could give. She planted a big smooch on his cheek. “I love you, sweet boy. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Love you, Mom.”
She repeated the hug and kiss with Trey. He kissed her cheek. “Love you. I’m glad you’re here.”
Derrick and his sons shared hugs and backslaps. “Call us when the sheriff gets here.” The parents trailed out the door and drove off in their sporty red pickup.
Silence fell over the kitchen. Megan sipped her tea. Garret sat across the table from her, and Trey paced.
She wanted nothing more than to head upstairs to the bedroom, sandwich herself between her two men, and let the world slip away for a few hours. It didn’t feel right, though. She needed to make a plan of action, but first she had to get everything out in the open. “I want to tell you about it. About him.”
“Tonight? Wouldn’t you rather rest?” Trey set his hands on her shoulders. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed the contact. Neither of the brothers had touched her while their parents were in the room. She shook her head to clear it of that implication, and focus on what was urgent.
She touched Trey’s fingers. “Right now would be best.”
Chapter Twelve
In the heavy silence and bright light of the kitchen, Garret held Megan’s hand. She was cold. “Let’s sit in the living room.” Garret stood. “Do you want more tea?”
She shook her head as he helped her up. “Some of that fancy Scotch you have next to the hearth might help.”
They sat on the couch facing the fireplace. Trey switched on the gas flame but turned on the chimney fan so the heat didn’t overwhelm them.
Megan shivered as the warm air blanketed them, and her first swallow of Scotch hit her belly. “Where do I start?”
Trey sat next to her and brushed her hair back from her face. “Wherever you want, sweetheart.” He laid his arm across her shoulders.
Garret placed his palm on her thigh, squeezing to give her strength. What he really wanted to know was how the fucker found Megan in Texas, and why he waited until she was out of Canada to go after her.
“The stalker wrote ‘Maggie’ on the note.” She looked at Garret. “My real name, before I cha
nged it, was Magdalene Larnfrow.”
Before he could stop it, he let out a snort.
Trey leaned forward and glared at him.
Garret’s brows rose. “Hey, she thinks Texas names are challenging.”
Megan smiled. “You can see why I used Maggie for short.”
“Magdalene. Biblical.” Trey’s fingers made patterns on her shoulder. His brother could feel Megan’s tension, too.
“That’s what you get when your parents are missionaries. I haven’t seen them in years, but we talk on the phone every few months.” She waved a hand. “They’ve always said I invited the trouble with the stalker when I left the security of their home.”
“But you left to go to college.” Garret rubbed her thigh, wanting to pull her into his arms and kiss away all her troubles.
“There’s no arguing with them. I received no support from them while I was being stalked, through the...through the rest of it, and the trial, nothing.”
What was she skipping over?
“You know we’re here, Megan.” Trey brushed his lips on her temple. “We’ll support you, protect you, and do anything we need to do to keep you safe.”
“Thank you.” She smiled at Trey and set her hand on Garret’s. “They just gave me warnings that I needed to give up my lifestyle and come back to Alaska.” She shivered again and her gaze seemed to travel to the cold, dark north.
“Lifestyle?” Garret had no idea what that meant.
She sighed. “A secular college, I was told, is a hotbed of evil.”
He flipped his hand over and held hers. “Tell us everything, Megan. We’re not interested in judging you. We know none of it was your fault.”
She stared at him for a minute, looking a little surprised. “Okay, here it is. The stalker’s name is Larry Heins. He was a senior and I was a sophomore when it started.” Megan paused. “I haven’t told this story since the trial.”
Garret could kill the asshole for making her life hell again, after all she’d been put through.
“He was a tutor and I was failing chemistry. He wanted to get into geology, oil production.” She swirled her Scotch. “He was nice enough. Had long, brown hair he’d pull into a ponytail. But there was something about his eyes; the way he’d watch me too closely.”
Double Her Pleasure Page 9
