by Kathy Ivan
How’d Ridge know that? She hadn’t mentioned it, and she was pretty sure Henry wouldn’t have spit out that information. Something smelled fishy, and she watched Ridge. Took in his relaxed posture, his easygoing I’m-a-good-guy smile. Doubt niggled at the back of her mind that something seemed off, she couldn’t put her finger on it. Not yet anyway.
“Gotcha. I’ll fill out a report, get everything handled with the security company.” Dusty shook Ridge’s hand, and then Maggie’s. “Y’all have a good night.”
“Thanks, Dusty.”
“No problem.”
With that, he left, leaving Ridge and Maggie alone. Turning on her heel, Maggie headed back to the kitchen, yanked a pot out from under the stove, and slammed it atop the range. Then she pulled the container of milk from the fridge, pouring a generous amount into the pot and turning on the burner. Grabbing a cannister off the countertop, she dumped several heaping spoons of cocoa mix into the pot and stirred.
“Maggie?” Ridge stood across from her, watching her every movement.
“I know I’m not going back to sleep. I’m making some cocoa. Want some?”
“Okay.”
Stomping across the kitchen, she reached into the dishwasher and pulled out two mugs, barely refraining from slamming them onto the counter, and leaned her hip against it, watching the pot on the stove. She was beginning to regret letting Ridge stay. Regret allowing him to work on her security. Shoot, she was beginning to think there was a whole lot more to Ridge’s story than he’d told her—and not only did that tick her off, but it scared her. With everything coming to a head in a couple of days, she couldn’t afford to make any mistake. One slip up and everything would fall apart, unravel like a loose thread. One good pull and it fell apart, destroying all she’d done, all the hard work and sacrifices. No, that couldn’t happen.
Turning off the burner, she gave the chocolate a good stir and poured it into the waiting mugs, sliding one across to Ridge.
“Something’s changed since we got home. Want to talk about it?”
Maggie studied him over the rim of her cup, taking a small sip of the hot chocolate, letting the warmth of the sweet drink sooth her. Even as a little girl, whenever she got upset, her mother had made her a cup of hot cocoa and promised that everything would be okay. It was her panacea to the outside world, the thing she’d go to when she was worried or upset. Tonight, for some reason, it wasn’t working its regular magic.
“How did you know? About my land spreading over two counties? It’s not really common knowledge—most people assume we’re in Burnet County. But you didn’t even hesitate. You knew.”
“Maggie, I always do my homework when I start looking into a new project. I needed to know the details of exactly where your property lines begin and end. This isn’t like setting up a series of wires and connections for a regular residence. We’re talking thousands of acres of property, including your house. Regulations can vary from county to county. Heck, they can be different from city to city with regards to connecting with law enforcement and emergency services. It’s not like the information is secret or anything. A couple of quick phone calls, and I had the details.”
“Oh.” She wanted to believe him, she really did.
“What are you thinking, Miss Maggie? I can practically see the wheels spinning around inside your pretty head.”
“It’s nothing. Just a long night. I think I’ll turn in.”
She lowered her head, not wanting to meet his gaze. For some reason, Ridge seemed far too adept at reading her for someone she barely knew. She needed to stay on her toes, be ready, be vigilant. There was far too much riding on the next shipment for her to screw things up now because her libido decided it wanted to do the horizontal mambo with a stranger.
Picking up her mug, she cradled it in her hands, and turned to go.
“Good night, Maggie.”
Without looking back, she answered. “G’night, Ridge. See you in the morning.”
Instead of heading to bed, she kept walking, deep into the heart of her office. She had some digging to do, something she should have done the minute she’d caught him snooping around her property. She’d started before, but interruptions and getting the tiny houses ready kept her from following through.
It was time to find out exactly who Ridge Boudreau was, and what he was really doing on her land.
CHAPTER TEN
Felicia arrived bright and early the next morning, with her usual level of exuberant excitement and overabundance of energy, making Maggie feel like a slug. Which seemed apropos, seeing she’d barely slept. Between the excitement of the night before, spending another couple of hours on the computer, and the enticingly erotic fantasies starring Ridge Boudreau keeping her awake, she felt like a sloth, moving through a pool of sticky tar. She stumbled into the kitchen and pointed at the coffee maker. Maybe an unintelligible grunt rolled from her lips, she couldn’t be sure since she was brain dead.
Felicia grinned and poured her a cup. Wrapping her hands around the mug, Maggie inhaled deeply, letting the enticing scent of coffee fill her senses and slowly smiled. Herein lay her weakness, her kryptonite. If she had any plans to make it through her day as a fully functional human being, she needed an infusion of caffeine, although this morning, she’d probably need more than one. If she knew how, she’d mainline it straight into a vein.
“Good morning, sunshine. Late night?” Felicia grinned and waggled her brows suggestively.
“Get a life, Felicia.”
“But yours is so much more interesting. You look like you didn’t get a lot of sleep. Was he that good?”
Maggie leaned forward and banged her head against the marble countertop. “Nothing happened. How many times do I have to tell you, Ridge is here for business only.”
“Monkey business?” Felicia teased, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “The business of pleasure? Because looking at him, with all that I’m-a-bad-boy vibe coming off him, I’m betting he’s a professional at pleasure.”
“Ugh, do you ever think of anything besides s-e-x?”
“Sometimes. But teasing you is way too much fun.” She took a deep drink of her coffee. “Really, Mags, you need a life.” Felicia held up her hand when Maggie started to interrupt. “A real life, one outside your extracurricular activities. You have to let go of the past. Life isn’t always ugly. There are times when it is downright beautiful. And you deserve that, Maggie. You deserve for the sun to shine on you and let you be happy.”
Maggie knew her friend meant what she said, could hear the sincerity in her voice, but she was too jaded to believe in happily ever after. Felicia might still have blinders on and see the sunny side, but for Maggie, it was far too late. She’d settle for being content, because it sure beat the alternative.
“I need you to do me a favor.” Maggie kept her voice low, almost at a whisper. “I’ve got some stuff in the trunk to restock the cabins. I was going to do it yesterday, but something happened, and I didn’t get a chance. With Ridge here, I don’t want to take a chance on him finding out. Can you make sure it gets there?”
“Of course. How soon do you need it? I can head over there now, if you want, and finish the cleaning when I get back.”
“Anytime today will be fine. We’ve got a bit of time. I get antsy when I’m expecting…guests.” Maggie took a big drink of her coffee, feeling the warmth spread through her like a hug. “It’s mostly canned goods and a couple of things to help the time go by. Everything else looks great. I went by and cleared things out, made sure all the essentials were in place. Once the food situation is handled, we’re all set.”
“I get why you do this, Maggie, but have you thought about backing out just this once? With Henry not being here, you’ll have to handle things on your own. Don’t you remember what happened the last time? Maybe—”
“Felicia, I have to do this. No backing out and no cancelling. I made a promise. A commitment. No, even with Henry gone, things should be okay.”
Felicia absently rubbed at an invisible spot on the counter, and Maggie wondered what the faraway look on her face meant. She didn’t have to wait long to find out.
“What about asking Ridge to help? Wait, wait, hear me out,” she implored when Maggie started to interrupt. “You know him better than I do, but Ridge seems like a good guy, who wouldn’t hesitate to give you a helping hand. Just this once, Maggie, reach out and ask for help.”
“I can’t. If anything goes wrong, it’s on me. I’m not dragging somebody else into this. It wouldn’t be fair.
Felicia sighed. “Sometimes you’re too darned stubborn for your own good. You’re my best friend, and I worry about you. I know you want to save the world, but nobody said you had to do it singlehandedly.”
“I have to do this. If I don’t, who else will?” Maggie shook her head. “I’m not being a martyr, Felicia. I am fully cognizant that what I’m doing is against the law, and I will not drag anybody else along with me if I go down. But I can’t stop. Not yet.”
“Promise me you’ll be careful.”
Maggie reached across the counter and squeezed Felicia’s hand. “I promise. Stop worrying, everything’s going to be fine.”
Felicia turned and walked across the living room, mumbling under her breath the whole way.
“I heard that,” Maggie yelled after her.
“Good,” she shot back, glancing over her shoulder. “But when they hold a funeral for your bullet-riddled corpse, I ain’t coming.”
“Sheesh, that’s kinda morbid.”
“I’ve got work to do. I’ll take the stuff this afternoon.” Felicia turned toward Maggie, standing by the sliding glass doors. “Be careful. I’ve got a funny feeling in my gut. That’s all I’m saying, girlfriend. Be careful.”
“Promise.”
Maggie watched her friend glide out through the sliders, her expression guarded. She loved Felicia like a sister, even though she was a couple of years younger than her. Surprisingly, they’d met over ice cream. Maggie had been craving some and had driven into town. Felicia had been working at the ice cream parlor, and they’d hit it off instantly. Felicia was everything Maggie wasn’t: outgoing, vivacious and had a zest for life unequaled by anybody she knew.
When she found out Felicia was working three jobs to pay for her schooling, Maggie had offered her the job of housekeeper, a few days a week at her place. She paid her an exorbitant amount of money, which enabled Felicia to only have to work part-time, and keep up with her class schedule. She’d graduate in a little less than six months with a degree and better job prospects than she’d imagined possible, and Maggie knew she’d probably head to Austin or maybe Dallas-Fort Worth after she got her degree. The thought of her friend moving away left her bereft. What would she do once Felicia was gone? Henry worked for her, at least for now, but eventually he’d move on, and she’d be truly alone.
Get a grip, dummy. You’ve survived worse, and you’ll get through this, too. Everybody leaves, it’s a fact of life. Enjoy it while you can, because you know it’ll all fall apart. But you survived. Life goes on, no matter how much you want to stop it, freeze time. Besides, if things go south, you’ll have made your mark. Left a legacy to be proud of, even if nobody ever knows.
Straightening, she walked into the kitchen and poured herself another cup of coffee, and headed to the office, intent of continuing her research into Ridge Boudreau.
Ridge met Delgado at the front gate of Maggie’s property. Enrique Delgado had worked for Ridge’s security company for a couple of years, and was good at his job. The official company was located in Austin, a little over an hour’s drive from Shiloh Springs, which allowed Ridge to live in the town he loved, be close to his family, and yet still have a city presence for his business. His legitimate business, that is. His work with the DEA tended to take up more and more of his life these days, and he’d turned over a chuck of the day-to-day management to Delgado.
“I picked up the window and door sensors you asked for.”
“Good. There are broken connections between several, so we’re going to replace them all.” Ridge leaned against the Texas limestone pillars that stretched upward on either side of the property’s entrance, at least ten feet high. Arching across the top was an intricate scrollwork of metal and iron, twisted and molded into a design with the Lone Star emblazoned in the center. It was a striking feature, showcasing the drive up to the house, which was set back almost a half mile from the street.
An electronic double gate sat between the columns, with a keypad on the left one. Right now, the gates stood open, but they’d be firmly locked later against any uninvited guests, unless they scaled the fencing on either side of the limestone behemoths. Another security nightmare he’d be dealing with. Once the DEA’s case was settled, he planned on making sure Maggie’s home was nice and secure, his way of saying thank you for not only her hospitality, but her friendship and company.
“Ridge, do you want me to head up to the house now, or did you need something else?”
Ridge shook his head, pushing all thoughts of Maggie aside. Which was harder than he’d like to admit. He found himself thinking about her all the time. There was something about her that drew him in, fascinated him, made him want to uncover all her secrets and protect her from anything that might threaten her happiness.
“Wanted to ask your opinion. Take a look around, and tell me what you see.”
Delgado stepped out of his car, and studied his surroundings carefully. Ridge did too, although he could see them every time he closed his eyes. The property entrance, the fence line, the paved road running in front of Maggie’s house. The property across the street was unincorporated, overgrown with live oaks, mesquites, Indian hawthorn bushes, and Texas sage. It had to have been something special once, he mused, but it had been allowed to lie dormant, the brush growing with wild abandon until you couldn’t see more than a foot or two before it became an entangled mess. A low barbed wire fence sat off-kilter, some of the posts having toppled and fallen from the weight of the branches, leaving a hauntingly beautiful visage.
“The fence along the front isn’t going to be much of a deterrent to keeping anybody out. I spotted the pressure sensors every few feet, but that’s definitely not enough. Heck, with a good enough running start, I could probably hurdle over it without touching the wood. I notice that further down there,” he pointed, “there’s taller fencing. I’d have to take a good look at it to tell you the security or lack thereof.”
“Good catch. Let’s head up to the house and get those sensors put in, and we can talk about what we can recommend to Miss White about upgrades.”
Ridge slid onto the passenger seat and watched the gates close behind Delgado’s car as they headed up the long, paved drive to the circular driveway in front of Maggie’s house.
“Nice place.”
“It is. Probably gonna be a lot of work, correcting the incompetence of whoever put in the existing system. The sensors you brought are just the beginning.”
“Works for me.” Delgado paused before asking, “Is this only a Sentinel Guardians job or something more?”
Ridge chuckled, not surprised that Delgado had picked up on the situation. He was the only person at the company who knew about Ridge’s job with the DEA, and he kept the company upright and above water whenever Ridge was out of pocket on a case. He was a good man to have around, and Ridge trusted him one hundred percent.
“Fixing up Maggie’s security system is our secondary job. I’ll introduce you, and you can get started with the sensor replacements and any rewiring. Then I’ll fill you in on what I’m working on. But it’s strictly between us. The homeowner doesn’t know, and she’s not going to. This will be over before she realizes anything else is going on. Got it?”
“No problem, boss. Let’s knock out those sensors.”
Opening the front door, Ridge headed for the computer room by Maggie’s bedroom. That’s where she’d been when he’d left earlier. He had a pretty good idea o
f what she was doing, and also knew that she wasn’t going to find anything. There wasn’t anything on the net about his governmental dealings. He was squeaky clean. All she’d find was what he’d told her, and it was the truth. He lived in Shiloh Springs. Parents were Douglas and Patricia Boudreau. He was a foster child in their home, had been since he was thirteen years old. Legally adopted by the Boudreaus, officially changed his name to Boudreau when he turned eighteen, and joined the Army. Served four years and came home to Shiloh Springs. Got an education in security expertise while in the service and put it to good use, apprenticing for the government for a year before opening his shop. Never married, no real long-term relationships. All true, except for the fact the DEA had recruited him right after he’d left the service, and he’d worked with them ever since. He had a knack for working undercover, blending in with the dealers, junkies, and the cartel leaders, helping to bring them down from the inside.
“Maggie,” he called from the doorway, watching her intent concentration on something on the screen she was studying. Her startled gasp made him smile. “This is Enrique Delgado. He works for Sentinel Guardians Security, and he’s going to be replacing the sensors on your windows. The ones we discussed, remember?”
“Of course I remember, I’m not senile.” She stood and smiled at Delgado. “It’s nice to meet you. Welcome to my home.”
Ridge chuckled and tipped her chin up with his knuckle. “He gets a ‘nice to meet you’, and I got welcomed with a shotgun pointed at my face. Doesn’t seem right, Miss Maggie.”
“You introduced Mr. Delgado, and he was expected. You, on the other hand, trespassed on my land without asking. You’re still lucky I didn’t shoot your backside full of birdshot.”
“Wait—you really held a gun on Ridge?” Delgado burst out laughing. Please tell me you have it on video somewhere. I would love to have a copy. Excellent blackmail material when I need a raise.”
“I pay you too much already.” Ridge glanced at Maggie, saw her ready smile at Delgado’s teasing. “Just wanted to let you know we’re working, in case you heard noises and saw a stranger in your house. While he’s working on the windows, I’ve got a few things I need to handle, but I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
