by J. H. Croix
Today, he showed up and kissed her, and her silly heart forgot all of that. Once again, she was yearning for him, nostalgia crashing over her in waves. She opened her eyes and sighed. No matter what happened with Max, she still had to finish stocking the shelves.
5
With a few hours to go before he could see Roxy again, Max headed down Main Street to the police station. He figured he could ask Hank about his offer to round up some kids to help with yard clean up. He also intended to see what Hank might know about the accident that led to his father’s death. The police station was still housed in the same stately brick building as it had been years ago. He climbed the granite steps and entered through the heavy wooden doors, pausing to glance around. The waiting area was quiet with the receptionist on the phone and tapping away at her keyboard. He started to walk toward the counter when a door to the side opened and Hank stepped out.
“Thought I saw you walking up the steps,” Hank said with a wide smile. He stepped to Max’s side and clapped him on the shoulder. “Have you had a chance to stop by your old place yet?”
“Oh yeah. I stopped by yesterday. That’s one reason I came by. I was hoping maybe you meant it when you said you could round up some kids to help out with the yard clean up.”
Hank chuckled, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners in his weathered face. “Of course I meant it. Come on back,” he said, opening the door beside him and waving Max through. Hank stepped past him in the hall and turned into an office. “Need some coffee?” he asked, gesturing to a coffee pot on a small table by the doorway.
Max started to shake his head and then shifted into a nod. “Sure. I meant to grab some coffee at Roxanne’s earlier, but I forgot.”
Hank arched a brow and turned to pour coffee into two paper cups, handing one over to Max before sitting down at a small round table and gesturing for Max to join him. Though Hank had aged in the years Max had been gone, he still held that indefinable sense of strength and power all shifters carried. His brown hair was flecked with gray and his eyes were as perceptive as ever. “Don’t quite know how anyone could stop by Roxanne’s and forget to get coffee except you. Plain as day that old flame is burning hot and fast between you two. You’d better be ready for rumors to fly. Catamount’s grown since you left, but some things never change, especially where gossip is concerned.”
Max took a swallow of coffee and glanced over at Hank. “I can deal with it. Just hope Roxy gives me a chance.”
Hank nodded slowly. “I’ve known Roxanne since she was a baby. She’s always had a stubborn streak, but she’s also got a heart of gold. I’m not privy to how she feels about you, but I know what I saw when she laid eyes on you. Be patient.”
Max bit back a sigh. He knew he needed to be patient, but having Roxy this close after so many years of distance made it hard. “I figured I’d need to be. Anyway, back to the house. If you mean it, I could use some serious help cleaning up the yard. The inside of the house is actually in decent shape, just dusty as hell. I’ll pay if you can hustle up some help.”
“You got it. Give me a few days. Once I tell Gail, she’ll spread the word. You planning to move back in?”
“That’s the plan.”
Hank took a sip of coffee and eyed him. “Heard you took a job as a prosecutor for the county. True?”
“Yup. I would’ve come back no matter what, but when I saw the position was available, I applied. I don’t start until after the holidays. I suppose I’ll be seeing plenty of you.”
Hank flashed a grin. “That you will.” He paused, his gaze sobering. “Your mother reached out to me about your father’s accident the year before she passed away. She mentioned she spoke to you about it.”
Max’s throat tightened, and he took a gulp of coffee. “She did. I was hoping to talk to you about it.”
“I’ll talk all you want. Problem is it’s been fifteen years since your father died in that accident. I wish your mother had called me sooner because the trail’s definitely cold. But we’ve got one thing that might give us some leverage,” Hank said.
“What’s that?”
“You followed the news up here much?”
“A bit.”
“See all those stories about the smuggling ring here and out West?”
Max nodded, his curiosity piqued. He’d seen the stories about the smuggling ring that was splintered here and in a few other shifter communities out West. He’d known shifters must’ve had something to do with it since several of the Peyton’s had been arrested in the aftermath. Wallace Peyton had been the man his mother believed to be behind his father’s death. The Peyton family was one of four founding shifter families from centuries gone by. They’d once been revered in the community, so revered that his mother had been terrified to speak out about how his father died and chosen instead to flee the only place they’d ever known as home.
Max caught Hank’s gaze. “I saw the news, heard Wallace and Randall got arrested, but I don’t know what that has to do with anything.”
“Just that they’re locked up and we might get one of them to talk. You’re a prosecutor, you know the deal. They can cut all kinds of deals to reduce their sentence for good behavior. Cooperating with other investigations is one of them. Not to mention, Brad Peyton managed to keep his nose just clean enough to strike a deal and get released early. Of the lot of ‘em, he was the only Peyton who felt guilty about what the family brought down on shifters. I’ve got no trouble leaning on him. The investigation is still technically open and probably will be for a while. The feds got involved once we confirmed the crimes occurred across state lines.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like Wallace is going to fess up about being involved in my father’s death and what would his sons know about it?” Max asked.
Hank shrugged. “So maybe Wallace won’t fess up, but his back is against the wall as it is. I figure we rattle his cage. As for Randall and Brad, you’d be surprised what they might know. How about you fill me in on what you know and I’ll start poking around?”
“I wish I knew more. All I know is my mother said my dad became aware Wallace was embezzling profits at the mill. When he started trying to figure out who to tell about it, he died. The same day he died, she got a call from Wallace to give his condolences about my father. She said it was crazy because he called before anyone else knew my father died, including her. She later found out he called before my dad actually died. The only reason she didn’t call you sooner was because it was five years before she got around to getting his official autopsy report. That’s when she realized Wallace’s call came a little bit before my father’s accident. That’s all I know.”
Hank’s brows hitched up. “No wonder she got suspicious. Well, I’ll start digging. You’ll need to be patient. I don’t want to stir the waters so fast that people start shutting down. I figure if your father was suspicious about Wallace’s smuggling, he probably wasn’t the only one. Give me some time, and I’ll see what I can do.”
Max took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “Well, it’s been fifteen years. I can wait. I didn’t even know about all this until about a year ago. Finally helped me realize why my mom was so determined we had to leave right away.” He took another gulp of coffee, draining the small cup and leaned back in his chair. “I’m just glad you’re willing to take a look after all this time.”
“No question on that. Your family meant a lot to this community. If Wallace was behind what happened, I want to know. Don’t go thinking the Peyton’s are what they once were around here. They put all shifters at risk with their scheme to use shifters for smuggling drugs. They’re almost shunned around here now,” Hank explained.
“The news didn’t mention anything about shifters. I just figured Wallace was looking for another way to make money.”
Hank rolled his eyes. “Of course the news didn’t mention shifters. We’re not the only police department that knows how to protect our own. That detail wasn’t relevant to anyone other than shifters. B
ut yeah, that’s why most of Catamount shifters despise the once high and mighty Peyton’s. Wallace sold shifters to the highest bidder. He got a line to some guys out West that were just as happy to put us all at risk.” Hank paused and shook his head sharply, bitterness flashing in his eyes. “Man makes me sick, but it’s okay. We broke the ring up. Sad thing is, it’s still not like it once was. There’re a few shifters who were probably involved and somehow avoided detection.” Hank shrugged. “All we can do is hope they’ve learned their lesson at this point.”
Max leaned back in his chair, shock rippling through him. “Damn. I knew Wallace was an asshole, but I’ve never have guessed he’d put shifters at risk like that.”
“I wish I could say I was surprised, but Wallace was always after two things: power and money. If it hadn’t been for his family’s history, he likely never would’ve gotten to where he did. Such an arrogant jerk,” Hank said with a shake of his head. “Anyway, enough of that. I’ll start dusting things off on that investigation. Check in anytime. You’ll see me around plenty if you’re stopping by Roxanne’s.”
Max nodded. “Thanks again.” He stood from his chair with Hank rising to his feet at the same time. When he reached the door to the station, he glanced back to Hank who’d followed him quietly. For a moment, anger rose swiftly inside. He was only here asking for Hank to look into his father’s death because he had to. If Wallace Peyton had somehow orchestrated his father’s death, Max had to know the truth. He caught Hank’s eyes. “Before I go, here’s my number. You can call me if you have any luck rounding up some clean up help for me.” Max quickly recited his number.
“Oh, it won’t be luck. If you’re paying, there’s plenty of kids who’ll be happy to help,” Hank said with a chuckle as he entered Max’s number in his phone.
Max gave a wave and left, pausing by the sidewalk to look up and down the familiar street. It was strange to return to Catamount. This place was the only place that had ever felt like home, yet it was so odd to actually be here after so many years of nothing but memories. His eyes traced the roofline of Roxanne’s Country Store several blocks away from here. The place was the same magnet it had once been—all because the woman who held his heart in her hands was there.
Roxanne stood inside her bathroom and stared in the mirror. She hadn’t given her appearance much thought in the last few years. But now she was going to dinner with Max, and it suddenly mattered how she looked. Her blonde hair was almost always in a knot, usually held in place with whatever pen or pencil she happened upon when she needed it. With her busy life, she needed to keep her hair out of her eyes. She lifted a hand and tugged the pencil free. Her long, blonde hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders. She grabbed a brush and dragged it through her hair. Spinning away from the mirror, she strode into her bedroom and stared in the closet. She had absolutely no idea what to wear, although she should probably get a grip and wear whatever she might normally wear to dinner at The Trailhead Café. The Trailhead was best described as dinner casual. It garnered its name from Catamount’s location near the Appalachian Trail, the long winding trail through the Appalachian Mountains, which ran from Georgia to Maine. Hikers trekked through Catamount from early spring to late autumn in their quest to complete the trail. Roxanne ate there frequently with friends as it was a fixture in town and served reliably good food. She couldn’t recall a single time she’d thought much about what to wear.
She spun away from her closet and sat down on her bed with a sigh. She looked around the room and wondered what it meant that she still lived in her childhood home. Aside from Max, she’d never had a relationship serious enough to consider another life. She loved running her family’s old store and loved Catamount. Being a shifter meant managing risk. Staying in the oldest known shifter community offered her the ability to live as who she was without too much fear. Yet, here she was in the same home where she’d been born. The upstairs of the store was like the many colonial homes scattered throughout New England. Tall ceilings and windows, gleaming hardwood floors and large rooms made up the home. After her parents had passed away, she’d eventually relocated into the master bedroom, mainly because she liked the massive bathroom with its stunning old claw foot tub.
She took a deep breath and stood. Dammit, she would not obsess over what to wear. She’d just get dressed like usual. Moments later, she walked downstairs. She wove through the center aisle, tossing a grin Diane’s way as she passed by, and pushed through the front door. The bell chimed softly behind her just as she glanced up to see Max crossing the street. The setting sun glinted off his mahogany hair. His eyes met hers across the street. Her breath caught. It felt as if a flame lit up and danced through the air between them.
6
Max looked across the table at Roxy. Her gaze lifted and caught his, her blue eyes bright in the soft lighting. He yearned for the way things once felt between them—easy and comfortable with an ever-present hum of desire surrounding them. The desire was still as strong as it had ever been, yet she held herself at an invisible distance. He’d hoped after their unexpected kiss the other day that perhaps her reserve had eased. Instead, he sensed she was reacting against the kiss. He could feel how guarded she was, and he hated it. They’d managed to get through the walk from the store to here with nothing but superficial conversation. Their waitress had taken their order and served a bottle of wine. He pondered how quickly to cut to the chase. The lion within him was nearly lunging against the restraint.
“Roxy, can you give me a chance to explain?” he asked abruptly.
She looked at him for a long moment before taking a sip of wine. With a flick of her hand, she brushed her tousled blonde hair behind her shoulder before nodding. Her eyes were clear with a hint of a challenge in them.
“It’s not like I have any great excuse, but I was just numb and not thinking straight the day my dad died. I got home and my mom had already packed up the house. Next thing I knew, we were driving to Virginia to stay with my aunt. My mom told me we wouldn’t be returning to Catamount. I didn’t know why at the time, but she was also freaked out about us staying in touch with anyone. I couldn’t even think straight, so when I called you, I honestly thought I would never see you again.” He paused and swallowed against the constricted feeling in his chest and throat. It hurt to think about how surreal the first few weeks had been after his father died.
He looked across at Roxy to see her eyes were glimmering with tears, but she didn’t look away and simply stared at him. He took a deep breath and plowed ahead. He’d promised himself he’d lay it on the line with her so she knew exactly where he stood. “I never stopped loving you and I’ve missed you every day since we left. By the time I could think halfway clearly, I tried to call, but your mom was pretty pissed off with me. The thing I didn’t understand back then was why my mom was so insistent we had to leave. I don’t have all the details because she didn’t, but she thought Wallace Peyton had my father killed. I don’t know how, but my dad thought Wallace was embezzling from the mill where my dad worked. Back then, Wallace Peyton pretty much ran this town. I talked to Hank today and…”
Roxy set her wineglass down with a thunk, cutting into his words, her eyes wide and her mouth falling open. “Are you serious?”
“Well, yeah. That’s why my mom took off and was so determined to keep us away from Catamount. I didn’t know why until about a year before she passed away. By then, it seemed like it might be way too late to try to explain.” He paused and held her gaze. “I never forgot you. I came back because I wanted to have a chance again. I just hope you’ll give it to me.”
Roxy tore her eyes from his and looked down at the table, tracing her fingertip in a circle around the base of her wineglass. She was quiet for so long, Max worried he’d pushed too far and too fast. “I’m so sorry about your dad,” she said softly. “You were close to him.”
Max still missed his father, but he’d come to terms with the loss as best he could. “I was. I still miss him, but I’m
okay. I asked Hank to open an investigation into his death. He said he would. He thinks with everything that’s gone down with the Peyton’s that we might have a chance to get somewhere with it.”
She still didn’t meet his eyes, her finger circling the wineglass slowly. “I don’t know what to do with you showing up like this,” she finally said.
Max’s mind spun as he tried to think of the right thing to say that would persuade her of what he knew to be true—they were meant to be together and no one called to him the way she did. “Roxy,” he said, his voice roughened with the edges of his feelings.
Her shoulders rose and fell with a breath before she lifted her gaze to his. The pain he saw in the depths of her eyes sliced right through him. He might have all kinds of reasons why he hadn’t had enough sense to handle things differently back then, but it didn’t change how much he’d hurt her. Which nearly killed him inside. He’d gone and hurt the person who meant more to him than anyone. She was quiet, her eyes scanning his face. She blinked, drawing attention to the sheen of tears. He reached over and gripped her hand.
“I blew it. Big time. Even if I was young and not really with it after my dad died, I should’ve found a way to call you sooner. I was just, well, I was in shock. By the time I wasn’t, my mom was pretty pushy about me not contacting anyone from Catamount. But none of that changes the fact I hurt you. We were lucky, so damn lucky to find each other when we were that young, and I hurt you. I’m so damn sorry.”
He squeezed her hand and felt a subtle squeeze from her, which sent hope soaring inside. He was clinging to the hope they’d find a way past the chasm his abrupt departure and time and distance had created. He heard her breath come out slowly as she lifted her chin, a hint of her strength showing. “It was awful when you left, but the worst part was I was worried about you and I couldn’t even talk to you.” A tear rolled down her cheek and she swiped at it quickly, tugging her hand free from his. “I didn’t know any of this stuff about Wallace and your dad. I wish I had because it makes sense why your mom wouldn’t want to be here.” She paused and shook her head sharply. “Anyway, that’s another thing altogether. As for us…I just need some time. I can’t tell how I really feel right now. It’s all too much.”
