by Stacy Henrie
Her thoughts returned to Edward, as they often did when they were apart these days. She loved how his brow and mouth pursed when he was concentrating and the way his eyes lit when he was amused or excited. She loved how his gentle, strong hands could soothe a horse and how those same hands touched the small of her back or helped her rise from the sofa.
She looked forward to seeing him at mealtimes or around the ranch or during their occasional horseback rides. And though he hadn’t taken her back to the rock pile, she still cherished the fact that he’d trusted her enough to show her such a significant spot.
Maggy suddenly realized she’d kept the horse at a plodding place as she’d been woolgathering. If they didn’t hurry, she’d be late for the meeting. She moved to increase the horse’s speed, but a sudden thought entered her mind: Stop! The impression was so clear and firm that she jerked back on the reins, bringing the horse to a halt.
Was there something in the road? She rose to her feet to look around, but the lane stood void of any other people, carriages or animals. Confused, Maggy sat back down. Had she conjured up the thought from her own imagination?
Frowning, she slapped the horse lightly with the reins. But the thought returned: Stop! Don’t keep driving.
She stopped the horse a second time, more than a little baffled. What should she do now? Maggy eyed the road again as well as the back of the horse, but she couldn’t see anything amiss. Maybe things would become clearer if she got out of the buggy.
Rising to her feet, she climbed out of the vehicle. She surveyed the horse, though nothing appeared wrong with it. The animal simply watched her with what she imagined was a bit of confusion, too.
“I don’t understand it either, boy,” she murmured as she retraced her steps back to the side of the buggy.
The vehicle looked to be as sound as it had been when they’d driven it to church the day before. Was she missing something? Maggy moved closer to examine the buggy’s rear exterior and side. Her careful perusal at last paid off when she reached the right wheel. There was a large crack in the axle that hadn’t been there before—a crack Maggy suspected was deliberately made and not an accident.
The reality of what might have happened had the horse begun to trot slammed into her with such force she sagged against the side of the buggy, gripping it with both hands to remain on her feet.
If the horse had quickened its pace, the axle would have broken completely, causing the wheel to fall and likely throwing Maggy from the vehicle. She could have been seriously injured if she hadn’t heeded that warning thought.
Some of the peace she’d felt yesterday afternoon returned, soothing the shakiness in the pit of her stomach. Someone had been looking out for her. Look for His hand in the small things and the big things, Maggy. Look for His hand. If she wanted to know that God knew her individually, here was evidence.
She needed to let Edward know what had happened—and that their reprieve had come to an end. Taking the horse’s bridle in hand, she guided the animal to the side of the road. Once she had the buggy out of the way, she unhitched the horse and walked it back toward the ranch. Thankfully she didn’t have far to go. Her trembling softened a little more with each step, while at the same time her resolve grew stronger.
The culprit here was someone who knew her schedule, at least well enough to know she always took the buggy out on Mondays to attend tea meetings. The awareness of being watched sent a ripple of fear up her spine. She glanced around but saw no one lurking about.
As she drew closer to the house, she saw Edward exit the stable, leading Napoleon behind him. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw her. “Did you change your mind about going?”
“Not exactly.” Maggy waited to say more until she reached his side. Even then, she glanced around to ensure no one was nearby before continuing. “The buggy is broken down past the bridge and before the road to go to Sheridan.”
He frowned. “What happened? It was fine yesterday.”
“Someone tampered with the right-wheel axle. It would’ve broken completely if I hadn’t stopped driving when I did.”
She could tell the moment he understood the implications of what she was saying. His face drained of color. “Someone knew you would be driving the buggy to the tea meeting.”
Maggy nodded. “I came to the same conclusion.”
“Are you all right? Were you hurt?” His gaze swept her from head to toe.
“No. I’m a little shaken but fine.”
Before she could say anything more, he dropped the reins of his horse and pulled her to him in a tight embrace. The action surprised her—she hadn’t been this close to him in several weeks—but she didn’t stiffen in fear or discomfort this time. Instead she wrapped her arms around Edward’s waist, feeling secure and cared for within his arms. The moment felt all the more precious because his action wasn’t about convincing an audience they were engaged. Edward’s gesture was surely one of genuine worry for her, and she welcomed it, even if there was nothing more to his embrace than kindness.
At least that was what she told herself, in spite of the way her stomach quivered with delight as he continued to hold her.
“You might have been seriously hurt, Maggy.” He whispered the words, but she didn’t miss the fear and concern that underscored them.
She shut her eyes and pressed her cheek to his shirt, knowing she would have felt the same had it been him driving the damaged buggy. “I know.”
“Did you notice something wrong with the wheel while you were driving?”
Maggy recognized what he was really asking—how had she known to stop? Could she share her experience with him? Did she trust him enough to tell him something so personal? She didn’t have to search for the answer; she already knew it.
Blowing out her breath, she responded simply, “I had a thought—it came twice, actually—that I needed to stop driving. It was only after I examined the buggy that I found the crack in the axle.”
“You were protected.”
He didn’t state it as a question, but she felt the need to nod anyway. If only to show that she also recognized the import of her impression.
She eased back, though she didn’t want to, until he released her. “I still need to get to the tea meeting. It will take too long to hitch the horses to the wagon, but if we saddle—”
“No.” His eyes looked as dark as thunderheads. “Someone is trying to hurt you, Maggy. To get at me through you. It’s not safe for you to go to the meeting today.”
She placed her hand on his arm. “I’m not afraid, Edward. And we need to show that to whoever did this.”
* * *
He didn’t know whether to shout or take Maggy into his arms again—possibly both. Couldn’t she see how close she’d come to being injured? He couldn’t shake the panicked feeling in his gut over what could have happened.
Or the realization of how natural, how right, how wonderful it had been to hold her close and have her hand resting against his arm like this.
He wasn’t open to letting another woman into his life, though, especially one who was only here to do a job. He liked Maggy—she was smart, beautiful, matter-of-fact, kind. She didn’t play coy or manipulate, either. Best of all, she accepted him, not because he was successful or the son of an earl, but because he was himself. And yet she wouldn’t be staying, and he knew all too well the painful regret of giving his heart to a woman and watching her discard it before walking away.
“You really think you should still go?” He didn’t like the idea, but he could see her determination. It was another quality he admired about her.
She lowered her hand to her side, bringing a sting of disappointment to him. “Yes, absolutely.”
“All right. Then I’ll ride with you.”
Her brow pinched with a frown. “Edward, that isn’t necessary. I’m perfectly fine. I wasn’t harmed. And
I can take care...”
Her speech ended on a squeak when he lifted his hands and cupped her beautiful face between them. He wanted to secure her undivided attention for what he had to say. And, judging by her wide eyes and parted lips, he’d been successful. Except the feel of her soft cheeks beneath his fingertips was more than a bit distracting. He had to clear his throat in order to be able to speak.
“I know you can take care of yourself,” he said in a low, slightly gruff tone. “What I’m asking is if you’ll please indulge me in seeing that my fiancée gets to this meeting safely?”
She studied him, her expression radiating strength, grace and trust. Could she see that his question stemmed from more than a gentlemanly need to protect those in his care? In spite of his own resistance, he’d come to care a great deal about Maggy. And not simply as a friend, if his desire to kiss her in this moment was any indication. Only he feared breaking her trust if he did so.
“All right,” she whispered back.
What had they been talking about? “All right?” he repeated.
“You can ride with me.” She shook her head in mild exasperation, but she was smiling.
With much reluctance, he lowered his hands and stepped back. “Thank you.”
It didn’t take long to saddle the horse for her. Since Edward didn’t own a sidesaddle, Maggy had to straddle the animal, but she had enough profusion of skirt to keep her looking modest. Though he wasn’t sure how they would explain to anyone who asked why she’d ridden into town astride a horse instead of in the buggy this time.
They set out, riding down the drive and across the bridge. When they reached the buggy, Edward stopped to examine the axle. The large crack in it incited his anger and concern all over again.
Who had done this? he wondered as he remounted. How had they sneaked onto the ranch without anyone seeing?
The recent lull in acts against the Running W or ominous notes had been a welcome break for all of them, though he’d still had his wranglers rotating guard duty. If the sabotage now included people slinking onto his property undetected, he might need all of his staff to serve as guards instead of managing the ranch. But if he took that step, what would become of his horses or the Cavalry’s interest then?
Edward cut a look at Maggy riding beside him. She’d been protected earlier, when she’d had the thought to stop driving. And he had no doubt where the impression had come from. God was watching out for her, and that meant Edward needed to continue to trust her and the Lord, too.
Yes, his property and horses had been tampered with, and yet, not one person in his employ, including himself, had been physically harmed. They’d all been safe so far.
“That’s what made this time different,” he suddenly declared, renewed energy coursing through him.
Maggy turned in her saddle. “What did you say?”
“What happened back there with the buggy? It was different.”
“Different how?”
He sat up straighter. “None of the other ‘accidents’ were designed to hurt a person. Until now. Even those notes, however threatening, weren’t followed up by acts of violence that would harm someone. Property, yes, and possibly the horses, but not another human being.”
She nodded slowly, then faster with understanding. “You’re right. This last act isn’t in keeping with the others.”
“Which means?”
Her bright laughter drew a smile from him. “You tell me. You saw something I didn’t. What do you think it means?”
He considered her question carefully before answering. “Perhaps whoever is behind all of this is growing desperate. After all, like that last note implied, I haven’t heeded any of the warnings.”
“True, and I’ve seen firsthand how desperation can drive others to drastic measures.”
For the first time, he wondered what she had witnessed during her career as a detective. Surely it was a darker side of humanity.
“Could there be another possibility?” he asked as he adjusted his hat.
“Most likely.” She threw him an impish smile. “And you wouldn’t excel at your newfound detective skills if you didn’t ask yourself what other possibilities might exist.”
He chuckled, grateful for her confidence in him but feeling no less stumped. “I don’t know. There’s something a bit off-kilter—no pun intended—about this last action. It’s more aggressive and seems less aimed at the ranch and more at me personally. Could it be that the person’s motives have changed?”
“Could be.” Maggy’s face scrunched in concentration. Far from being unattractive, Edward found it endearing. “I agree that what happened today, or what might have happened, is far more aggressive than anything else that’s been done.”
A reflective silence settled between them for a few minutes before she spoke again. “If the man who left that last note was Howe, as we suspect, then maybe the damage to the buggy means he has more of a grievance against you than just wanting you to leave.”
“Possibly, though I don’t know what the cause for his vendetta could be,” Edward replied honestly. “I’ve not interacted with him personally beyond a handful of conversations over the last couple years.”
“Did you know he’s the nephew-in-law to the Druitts?”
He glanced at Maggy in disbelief. Why hadn’t he known that? Howe had only been around the area less than a year before he and Vienna had married, but Edward hadn’t known the girl’s relation to the Druitts. “So Vienna is their niece?”
“Yes, and it isn’t a surprise that you don’t know. Both sides seem content to keep the fact quiet.” She glanced forward once more. “I can understand why Vienna would do that, but I’m not sure why the Druitts aren’t more doting toward their niece.”
Edward’s thoughts returned to Howe and why the man would hate him enough to hurt his ranch and Maggy. Nothing new came to mind. He wasn’t even sure Howe had been to the Running W before. Like so many aspects of his case, the perpetrator’s motive still remained a frustrating mystery.
The ride to Sheridan passed uneventfully, to Edward’s immense relief. He might have been overly concerned for Maggy’s safety, but he was still grateful to see her to the inn and know she’d arrived without incident.
Douglas Kitt was helping his wife down from their wagon when Edward and Maggy rode up and dismounted. Thankfully neither of them seemed to notice or care that Maggy was riding horseback in a nice dress and wasn’t driving the buggy as usual.
“Howdy,” Kitt called to them.
Edward lifted his hand in greeting before turning to Maggy. “I can stay in town until the meeting is over.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ll be fine.” When he raised his eyebrows in challenge, she laughed. “I will.”
He didn’t like the idea of her riding home alone and unprotected. But he did need to return to the ranch. Plus he wanted to see if he could find footprints or any other clues near the stable. “I’ll head home then,” he conceded.
“I’ll be back soon.” She leaned in and, to his astonishment, pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
The gesture was over and done with in just a few seconds. But the soft brush of her lips lingered on his jaw, even after she’d moved toward the porch where Vienna stood waiting for her and Matilda. The three women entered the inn together.
“You’re putting us to shame, Kent,” Kitt muttered, but his expression didn’t match his surly tone as he watched his wife disappear inside.
Edward cleared his throat and tried to push Maggy’s kiss to the back of his thoughts. She’d likely done it because others were watching them. Still, that didn’t erase his strong wish to march after her and show her what a real kiss between them ought to be. A wish that had nothing to do with being observed or not.
It took another moment for him to remember what Kitt had said. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you m
ean.”
“All this courting stuff between you and your fiancée.” Kitt waved his hand in the air. “It’s got Matilda all dreamy-eyed and insisting she and I act like we’re sweethearts again.”
Edward couldn’t help chuckling. “That isn’t to your liking?”
“I wouldn’t say that. It’s been kind of nice.” The other rancher turned red, though there was a genuine grin on his face. “I’d forgotten how crazy in love I was with that woman when I first met her.”
Had Edward been crazy in love with Beatrice? He’d thought so, but looking back, he’d felt more relieved than in love at having someone like Beatrice interested in him—the third, oft-overlooked son. Believing he had the affection of a beautiful, charming, wealthy woman had made him feel enough. In truth, they hadn’t shared the easy camaraderie he’d always hoped to have with the woman he intended to marry.
Had Beatrice felt the absence of genuine friendship in their relationship? he wondered. Had she found that with his brother?
The questions prompted a flicker of compassion for the woman he’d once believed he adored. Of course he still wished she’d been honest with him and hadn’t gone behind his back to pursue his oldest brother. But maybe Beatrice had recognized something was missing between them. He even found himself hoping she’d found more than financial gain in her union with his brother. He hoped she’d been able to find real companionship and love, too.
A stray thought entered his head, chipping away at his magnanimous mood. Had Maggy ever been in love in the way Kitt had described? Edward frowned. He wasn’t sure why the idea of her loving another man didn’t sit right with him, but it didn’t.
Kitt spoke again, pulling Edward’s thoughts to the present. “I’d forgotten what it’s like to be friends and sweethearts like we were in the early days. Like how you and Miss Worthwright are right now.”
Edward swallowed the argument that settled on the tip of his tongue. True, he and Maggy were friends. But they weren’t sweethearts—not in a real sense. Instead of feeling proud that they’d convinced the Kitts of the validity of their temporary engagement, though, he felt sadness.
