Skin Heat

by Ava Gray

  There was loss, too, of course, and an ache that would never go away. But all told, things were better than they could’ve been, given the circumstances.

  It was a little awkward at first, but Ben wasn’t ever going to stop being a friend of the family. Zeke apologized to him and they shook hands. Ben was cool, but he’d lost to the man, and then nearly been throttled by him. Neva figured that was to be expected. Though she doubted they’d ever be friends, it was a start. After the uncomfortable exchange, Ben spent his time with her father, talking campaign ideas. If he couldn’t marry Harper’s daughter, he could still benefit from Conrad Harper’s undoubted political acumen.

  They ate family style, passing bowls around the table, and she couldn’t remember ever enjoying a meal at her mother’s house more, at least not since she’d been grown. In her childhood there had been secret midnight suppers in front of the TV, sticky peanut butter and jelly fingers and a whispered order not to tell Grandmother Harper. Neva felt glad the old martinet no longer ruled this place from her grave.

  Afterward, Sheriff Raleigh got to his feet. “I reckon y’all know I have an announcement to make.”

  She glanced at the bulge in Zeke’s pocket. They did, too. There was a reason she hadn’t worn her ring. He wanted to make it official in front of her folks and ask permission formally. He hadn’t wanted to do it so soon after they’d broken up, lest her family thought they were rushing things.

  But she leaned forward, chin propped on her hand, as Raleigh went on, “That business over the holidays made me realize something. I don’t want another term. I’ve had this job for twenty years, and it’s time for me to retire.”

  Nobody protested, which meant they’d known it was coming. Her father said, “I understand, Cliff. Do you have anyone in mind as your successor? Is there somebody in the department who could step up?”

  Raleigh snorted. “Like who? Bobby Pickett?”

  Even Neva smiled at that. Pickett was a good guy, but not upwardly mobile.

  The sheriff continued, “I was awful impressed with Agent Hebert. He’d need to move into the county, and run for office when the time comes, but you could help with that, couldn’t you, Con?”

  Her father smiled. “I reckon I know a thing or two about winning elections.”

  Watching his face, she decided this offer didn’t take Agent Hebert by surprise. Zeke’s hospitality would permit him to take the town’s measure when he wasn’t trying to catch a killer and decide if it was a place he wanted to settle.

  “I’m flattered,” Hebert said. “And . . . interested, I believe. No promises as yet, but I could use a change.”

  That called for a toast. Once she would’ve resented being part of the secret meetings that dictated the town’s future, like she was better than everyone else. But it made up part of who she was, the family she came from, and no point in being angry when there were so many good things in the world. No, the Harpers weren’t perfect, but she loved them.

  When the talk died down, Zeke pushed to his feet beside her. “My turn.”

  “You have something to say about the sheriff position?” her dad asked.

  “No, sir.”

  He flipped open the box and showed the rings around the table. Smiles built because everyone knew what was coming. Only her father remained stone-faced, eyeing Zeke with apparent disfavor. She knew that look; it was meant to test her man’s mettle.

  Zeke froze, and her heart sank. He’d spent so long and memorized each word so he could do right by her, and she knew how hard it was for him. How it all got scrambled when he was nervous. She touched his thigh.

  It’ll be all right. You can do this.

  It all came out in a rush and without much inflection. “I want to marry your daughter. I’ll sign any form you’d like, saying I don’t have a right to anything she owns. I just love her and I want your blessing.”

  “You have it,” Lillian said. “No prenuptial needed.”

  “Lilly—” Her father began, but his wife shushed him.

  “I know people. Just look at him. He doesn’t care about the money.”

  Neva dared to raise her eyes then, and she saw it, too: that luminous look of perfect devotion. He glowed with it. There was no subterfuge in him; what he gave, he gave completely and without reservation.

  I am so lucky.

  “I never could argue with my wife,” Conrad Harper said.

  After the toast, she made her way around the table to Luke’s side. In good lighting, he looked older. Captivity had aged him and given him a new gravity. He didn’t laugh as readily. No surprise there.

  “How are you holding up? If Mom and Dad start driving you crazy, we have room out at the farm for one more.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m good here.” His dark eyes, so like her own, roamed the bright, luxurious room. “I feel . . . safe. Dad’s doubled the guards on the grounds, at least until I’m less of a pussy.”

  “Don’t say that. I’ll never forget how brave you were.”

  “And I’ll never forget that you fought for me. Congrats, by the way. He seems like a hell of a guy.”

  “He is.” She knelt beside him and kissed his cheek. “I never gave up hope you know. I knew you were out there, somewhere.”

  “Such as I am.” Luke was broken in ways no simple hug could fix, and he tensed when she touched him.

  So she pretended she hadn’t noticed and straightened. Her gaze found Zeke; he stood listening to her father and Sheriff Raleigh. He could market that attentive look. People would probably pay a fortune for it. She was the only one who knew he was flying somewhere in his head, listening to the wind.

  Once the party ended, Zeke got Neva out of there as soon as he could. Maybe he’d learn to fake it, but he’d never enjoy such things, although he’d admit her family wasn’t as bad as he’d first feared.

  “Can’t wait to get you home,” he said, and the word thrilled him because it was right and true.

  Emil would be joining them in a couple of days. Before he left, he’d said he needed to pack some things and settle some details at work. It would be weird to have a friend again, but he thought maybe he’d like it. If he was going that route, there would come a time when he’d have to tell the guy some things, and he was okay with that, too. You didn’t build a life on secrets, and other people could choose what to believe, whether to walk or stay.

  While they waited for the valet to pull the car around, her father came out, bundled against the late-winter air. “I’d like a private word with your young man, if you don’t mind.” The words were polite enough, but his face was pure steel.

  Neva evidently recognized that, too, because she said, “Maybe I’ll just go see if Caro has any leftovers.”

  Beneath the weight of the older man’s gaze, he straightened his shoulders. “Yes, sir?”

  “I don’t know if she’s told you about me, but—”

  “Yes.” It seemed best to save time. Zeke knew about the cancer.

  A relieved sigh escaped Harper. “So let me cut to the chase. The doctors gave me a year, and I’m putting a good face on it because God knows this family’s had enough sadness lately. I want them to enjoy Luke being home. They shouldn’t be fretting about me.”

  “Would feel the same,” he said.

  “But I’m not going to make it that long.” Even as he spoke, he broke into coughing that sounded rough and painful. Harper pressed a handkerchief to his mouth and it came away damp with blood. He smelled of sickness, a deep-core rot. It came up from his chest and tainted his breath.

  “Guess you need something from me, then.” Zeke couldn’t imagine what.

  When he tucked the cloth away, he seemed frailer and more tired, his breath a wisp of smoke in the night air. “I won’t be around to watch how you treat her. I won’t be here to see if you remember her birthday or bring home flowers on your anniversary. I won’t be able to kick your ass for making my girl cry. You seem like a man of your word, so I want your promise, here and now, t
o a dying man, that you will do right by her.”

  That hit him like a fist in the gut. He’d lost his father twice, once to the bottle, and once to the grave, but maybe he had a second chance. Zeke put out his hand and flattened the other across his heart. “Swear on my life, sir, I will be good to her.”

  Harper shook it, and then yanked him into a back-slapping hug. It was awkward and awful and wonderful at the same time. And Zeke found he didn’t mind because of the man’s connection to Neva—he could bear it.

  As he drew back, he asked, “Did you bribe her staff to quit?”

  A flicker of shame offered his answer, and Harper didn’t try to deny it. “I regret that. I regret so many things. I thought I knew best for her when I should’ve just wanted her to be happy.”

  “Been there,” Zeke said, remembering how he’d thought he couldn’t live in her world and had hurt her enough to make her leave him.

  The woman he loved cleared her throat as she came out the door to make sure she wasn’t interrupting anything. The night glimmered in her hair, painting her face in silver and starlight. Her loveliness made him ache all the way down to his bones, but it was a sweet feeling because she belonged to him and he had just made a promise to her father. This was forever, one foot on a road that he wanted to walk all the way to the end, as long as she stayed by his side. As long as she did, he could do anything and he feared nothing. It didn’t even shame him anymore that he couldn’t read a story to their children when the time came; she could read to all of them, and she would, because she loved him back.

  “Are you finished?” she asked her dad with a faint half smile.

  “I am, baby. You have yourself a good man, here.”

  “I know,” she said, taking Zeke’s hand. “Let’s go home.”

  EPILOGUE

  JUNE, FOUR MONTHS LATER

  The grounds at Harper Court glowed emerald against a backdrop of roses. Staff hurried around with trays of food on silver platters, and a guy staggered by with a giant swan carved out of ice. A woman was setting up folding chairs and tying some sparkly fabric over the top while she yelled at her assistant to work faster. The gazebo had already been covered in flowers and more sparkly fabric. Zeke had to admit it was pretty. And scary.

  If he had to live here, he might go out the veranda doors. But no. He’d deal, if Neva wanted to make this their home. Thank God she didn’t. The servants would surely ask about the coyote running around and the squirrels who came up to the bedroom window to chatter before dawn.

  As he stared out over the lawn, Zeke could only be glad he hadn’t been the one pushing the mower. Impossible to imagine he’d ever be here like this. Turning, he tugged at his tie. The tuxedo felt strange, and he’d only agreed to this to please Neva’s mother. Lillian had asked him the other day to call her mom. Before, he had been so alone, despite his aunt Sid and his numerous cousins. Now he was about to become a husband, and with that step came Neva’s family. Because she loved him, they acted like he was doing them a favor to consider joining their ranks.

  “You yanked it crooked.” Emil’s tone held impatience, but he didn’t smell the same way. He was pleased to be here. Like Zeke, he didn’t make friends easily. “Here.” The other man stepped back, evidently satisfied with the adjustment.

  “Got the rings?”

  “Yes.” He patted his pocket. “Stop worrying.”

  “Just want everything to be perfect for her.”

  “She loves you,” Hebert said. “So it will be.”

  Zeke had to smile at that. “Thanks. Y’know . . . the role of best man’s played by a guy’s best friend.” He felt stupid, but sometimes shared danger created a deep, unbreakable bond. In this case, it had.

  There were other bridesmaids and groomsmen, but they didn’t mean much to Neva or himself. Lillian had chosen them for the way they’d fill out their suits and dresses and whether they’d photograph well. Though she wasn’t the frosty bitch he’d first met at the farm, some things didn’t change. She cared about the way things were done, and she’d needed the distraction of a big wedding. Neither he nor Neva had the heart to deny her this spectacle.

  The other man grinned. “I know. I just wanted to make you say it. But please don’t kiss me. Neva might get jealous.”

  “Got it.” Zeke laughed, his nerves easing as Hebert had intended.

  This was the right thing to do. In half an hour, he would go to meet the woman he loved, and then she would stand before all the world—Lillian had invited the whole town, at least—and tell them she was his. The beast in his head rumbled its approval. Ever since he’d put his ring on her finger, it had quieted. No more outbursts, though it made its presence known from time to time. It told him things about people. As long as he took regular runs and stayed out of big crowds, it was bearable.

  Regardless, he’d never be normal. Ever.

  But he had made peace with it. She’d made it clear she belonged to him, no matter what—even if things changed in him for the worst. But there were no guarantees even for regular folks. You just had to take it one day at a time and live your life. He could do that. In fact, he looked forward to it.

  “You’re a lucky man, you know.”

  “Yeah. Thinking about Rina?”

  Once, his friend would’ve flinched at hearing that name. Hebert had confided in him that spring while they’d been fishing, so he knew the story. It had been peaceful that day. Sometimes friendship just meant showing up.

  “Not in the way you mean. I think . . . it was easier than trying to meet someone I could have loved. That way, I had this perfect, untouchable dream instead of disappointment.”

  Zeke nodded, knowing Emil must be going somewhere with this line of talk, and he just needed to listen. He was best at that anyway.

  “Being around you and Neva has made me realize I cheated myself. And that maybe I have to forget about Rina, at least . . . like that. She was my partner, and my friend, and that’s all. It’s enough.”

  “Moving on then?”

  “I think I’m ready.”

  “Wedding’s a good place to get lucky,” he observed.

  Emil punched him. Before Zeke could respond, the other man’s cell phone rang. “Hebert.” He listened briefly, a frown forming. “Huh. It’s for you.”

  That was weird. But maybe it was somebody who knew he didn’t have a cell and that Hebert would be with him this morning, doing best man duty. If it was a last-minute cancellation or addition, Lillian’s head might explode. “Yeah?”

  The voice that came over the line sounded tinny. Not real. “I understand you’re getting married. The bride looks especially lovely today.”

  Fear coiled through him. “Who’s this?”

  “You can call me Mockingbird.”

  “What—”

  “I just have a message for you, that’s all. Consider it a wedding present.”

  This had to do with the people who had taken him. He just knew it. “Talk.”

  “They’re not looking for you. They’re not coming for you. You were a failure, so to speak. No money in your genetic evolution.”

  “Who are you?”

  “As I said, call me Mockingbird. We’ve been watching you, Zeke. Trying to decide whether you would be a good fit. But unfortunately, we want different things. You don’t care about revenge. But you sensed us, did you not?”

  So he hadn’t imagined the eyes on him. He wasn’t crazy. Not even a little bit. “Yeah. Why tell me now?”

  A distorted laugh rang out. “I just thought you might crave peace of mind, today of all days. You don’t want to look over your shoulder for the rest of your life, do you?”

  “So they chose me. Not at random.”

  “Yes,” Mockingbird said. “But if you want to be happy, if you want her to be safe and happy, then let it be. Others will fight the good fight for you.”

  “S’all I have to do? Walk away?”

  “Yes.”

  Zeke cut the call by hitting end and handed Emil b
ack his phone. The other man studied him. “You all right? Want me to find out who that was?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said, and went out to meet his bride-to-be.

  It’s almost a cliché, Neva thought, gazing down at the ivory satin dress. She had the shoulders for strapless and her mother had insisted. Not that she’d required much persuading. It was a gorgeous gown.

  She studied herself in the mirror, hardly daring to believe it as Lillian settled the wreath of white baby roses on her dark hair. The elegant updo suited her, though she wouldn’t want it every day. But for one day? This day? Absolutely. And as long as Zeke found her beautiful, everything else would be worth it.

  “You take my breath away,” her mother whispered. “I wish—”

  Neva covered her mom’s hand with her own. “Yes. Me, too.”

  Her dad hadn’t lasted nearly as long as the doctors estimated. It had been a matter of months, not the year they’d given him. And the end came quickly. She wished he could’ve given her away, too. Every woman wanted her daddy on hand to walk her down the aisle.

  “The music’s starting.” Even now, so many months after he’d returned to them, Luke’s voice still had the power to send joy streaming through her veins.

  These days he couldn’t stand dark rooms or closed spaces. Loud noises made him cringe. He’d gone back to work at the mill at least, and he was keeping things afloat, as he’d always done, without regard to his own well-being. Neva wanted so much for him to be happy. He had a lot of healing left to do, and he’d never be the man he had been before. Too many old scars and bad memories.

  But he looked handsome in his tuxedo, and he stood ready, offering his arm. With a tremulous smile, she took it. Her brother walked her down the aisle in time to the music. She didn’t have a ridiculous train, so the attendants followed behind. They stopped at the gazebo and Luke offered her hand to Zeke.